


Insomnia

by thescorpiondoctor



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Angst and Feels, Autobots vs Decepticons, Backstory, Bad Decisions, Changing Fate, Character headcanons, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Empurata, False Memories, Friendship/Love, Gaslighting, Gen, Genetic Experimentation, Guilt, Horrors of War, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Memories, Mental Illness, Mnemosurgery, NaNoWriMo, NaNoWriMo2018, Original Character(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Recovered Memories, References to Addiction, Reliving the Past, Repressed Memories, Reprogramming, Rookie - Freeform, Torture, Trauma, Unrequited Love, autobot prisoner, characters forgetting who they are, characters losing their minds, decepticon pecking order, decepticon research facility, decepticon war crimes, good people do bad things sometimes, how Stormshift was created, prisoners of war, rewriting memories, shadowplay, sometimes the bad guys can be good inside, sparklings born during the war, taking memories, the pain of the past, training new soldiers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-14 03:53:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 27,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16485425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thescorpiondoctor/pseuds/thescorpiondoctor
Summary: The story of how an empurata decepticon mnemosurgeon attempted to secretly stop the war and inadvertently affected the lives of several characters even after his descent into madness.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING! This story deals with some very hard topics such as abuse, torture, and manipulation. Reader discretion is advised. If at any time this story makes you uncomfortable, please don't continue to read it. This story also deals with subjects such as characters being able to enter others' minds and alter their memories, which may be a difficult subject for some readers. 
> 
> This story is a work of fiction. Relation to names, locations, events, and persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

 

Pedes clicked along the metal floor in a rythmic fashion as the two mechs walked side by side down the hallway of the facility. The walls were a dismal shade of steely grey, with minimal lighting, just the way the warlord Megatron seemed to like it. There was a scent to the place of old energon lingering in the air under the smell of stale cleaners. No matter what they used to scrub the place clean, it always stank of death and despair. Even if it didn't, there was a chill about the place from the endless experimentation that crept slowly under a bot's plating and would not go away until they were light years away from that nightmare of a facility. That was the very reason why the taller mech wondered why the young seeker beside him seemed to be reveling in the stench.

The taller mech was thin and wiry, his wings jutted out of his curved back at an odd angle and his dark purple-grey plating was covered in red bio-lights. His head and hands were bone white, and he had a pair of tentacles that looped around over his shoulders almost like a pair of suspenders. His legs were double jointed and ended in clawed feet with long, curved spines at the back. His head was oval shaped at the front and shaped like a backwards bullet from the side, with a blank faceplate that had a singular optic in the middle. He had an almost crown like ridge on his helm with antennae on either side, between which was a pale blue static pulse, almost like a miniature lightning bolt running sideways between his antennae.

Beside him stood the shorter mech, a thin and average height seeker with long legs and a bad attitude. His wings faced downwards and his plating was a couple disgusting shades of olive green, scab red, and dark oak brown that complimented his personality quite well. A red visor sat over his face, covering his optics. The olive mech was terribly nearsighted, and the visor served not only as enhancement to his poor vision, but also as a simple computer screen and visual display that tracked the movement of his optics. He had a snub nose and a snobbish attitude which the older bot was trying to train out of him. In fact, the older mech was at that moment seething at the younger one's apparent enjoyment of the stench about the place.

"Is that really necessary?" the one eyed, leggy scientist scolded. The static charge jumping between his antennae pulsed for a moment as he spoke, relaying his disgust at the olive green, maroon, and brown bot's actions.

"Is there a problem with me enjoying myself?" the younger bot retorted with another long sniff through his pointed enstril.

The taller one paused before he reluctantly shook his head. He was almost grateful that he was an empurata victim at that moment, because if his face had been showing his internal emotions, he could have possibly been pegged as a sympathetic sap. He felt his tentacles that looped around over his shoulders twitch, and he placed his hands over them to hold them back. It was almost as if those blasted things had a mind of their own. Or maybe he just really wanted to teach the rookie a lesson and whack him upside the head for his sadistic sniffing. Megatron was going to be proud of this one, if the young recruit could keep his head on straight.

The younger bot stopped in his tracks by the door to one of the numerous holding cells and kicked at it with one of his pedes in an attempt to startle the prisoner inside. But before he could kick at it again, a white servo was placed on his shoulder. "Blindshot. That really isn't necessary. Enough."

"I like to see them squirm!" the seeker replied, crossing his arms in defiance.

"The time for that will come. Be patient. And for primus' sake, find some other way to amuse yourself." The older bot said, using quite a lot of self restraint.

"Why don't you let me do the torturing this time? Shouldn't my training require some 'hands on' experience?" Blindshot asked.

The elder bot sighed aloud and narrowed his singular red optic. "The kind of torture you are about to witness does not require you to have a 'hands on' experience as you put it. These prisoners are much more valuable to us if they are alive and physically unharmed. You will have your chance once I am finished."

"But Grimspur!" Blindshot whined, almost like a child.

"Silence!" the one-eyed bot growled, backhanding Blindshot across the face and sending the shorter mech sprawling on the ground just outside the holding cell.

Blindshot glared up at Grimspur from under his visor, seething in anger and surprise at his superior's actions. He clenched his jaw before pulling himself to his feet, still glaring at Grimspur.

"Go ahead and waste your hatred on me. I really could care less. In fact, I deserve it. But by all means, do not let your idiocy get in the way of our objective. Once I unlock the cell, you will sit, and you will watch. Understood?" Grimspur growled.

Blindshot nodded in compliance but scowled in unrepentance. Grimspur typed in a code on the panel by the door, and with a hiss and a click it opened up into a small room with a shaking bot shivering in the back corner. Much to Grimspur's chagrin and Blindshot's dismay, the prisoner had already been badly beaten and likely tortured.

The prisoner was a mech, with white, emerald green, and royal blue plating with a large and quite obvious autobot symbol on his chest. His glass visor was cracked, and underneath it his optics were sunken in as if they had not been allowing the mech to sleep. His frame hung limp from the ceiling with a set of heavy chains binding his servos, and chains wrapped around his feet secured him to the floor. He was covered in scuffs and scratches, energon leaking from his plating. His mouth was clamped shut with a heavy metal gag that was crudely drilled into his faceplate.

Grimspur entered the room, and Blindshot followed shortly after him.

"I was hoping for fresh meat." Blindshot hissed, sneering at the prisoner.

"Remove the mouth clamp. We'll first see if he's willing to talk." Grimspur coldly replied.

Grimspur wondered if the younger mech could feel the intensity of his disapproving glare. The taller mech shook his head at Blindshot as he turned to close the door. Blindshot on the other hand walked directly up to the prisoner and latched his claws onto the clamp over his mouthplate, making direct eye contact with the chained mech. There they stood, visor to visor, rookie to prisoner, locked in the cell together while the older bot observed from the back wall. Blindshot dug his claws in between the metal of the clamp and the bot's face, grinning slightly as he did so, as if he was taking pleasure in seeing the other bot suffer.

Before Grimspur could protest or point out the locking mechanism and screws on the mouth clamp, the young seeker had already ripped the device off of the prisoner's face, making some fresh wounds where the screws had once been. Blindshot tossed the clamp to the side and grabbed the prisoner by the jaw, smiling even wider at the grimace on the bot's face and the small grunt of pain that had left the prisoner's voice box.

"Designation?" Grimspur asked, trying to ignore Blindshot's actions.

The autobot coughed weakly and raised his head, looking past Blindshot at the one eyed mech who stood behind him. "Why should I tell you?" the prisoner said, coughing again as a visible tremor ran through his frame.

Blindshot tightened his grip on the autobot's jaw. "Answer the question, you insolent fool!" he said, spitting in the mech's face.

The autobot cringed slightly, but he was silent in his reply.

"Do you not have a name?" Grimspur asked, his voice remaining calm and steady.

"Nah. I do. But I doubt it would be of any consequence to you 'cons." the autobot snarkily replied back, trying to hide the obvious pain in his voice as Blindshot's claws began to dig into the metal of his cheeks.

"It was a simple courtesy." Grimspur cordially replied.

"Yeah? An' what's in it for me? Are ya' finally gonna' let me out of this scrapheap or do I just get to hang here like some kind of macabre ornament, huh?" the autobot said, shaking a little as Blindshot once again tightened his grip on his jaw.

"Release from this predicament is a likely outcome if you cooperate." Grimspur stated, knowing deep down that the only likely release for this mech would be death.

"Can you at least tell your friend here to release my face?" The autobot countered. "Maybe then I'll tell ya my name."

"Blindshot." Grimspur warned, stepping closer to the two bots. Blindshot ignored him and kept his grip tight on the autobot's jaw.

"Blindshot that's enough." Grimspur stated, placing a white servo on the seeker's shoulder and looming over him with a threatening humm coming from the static charge between his antennae.

Blindshot grumbled under his breath as he complied, and Grimspur released his shoulder. The taller bot pushed Blindshot to the side and stepped in front of the prisoner so that they were facing each other eye to eyes. In a clear and nonthreatening tone, he said, "Now. Will you tell us your name?"

"S'pose I have to since ya' asked nicely..." the mech replied with an annoyed sigh. Grimspur could tell that he was in a lot of pain.

"If you like, I can call for a medic." Grimspur said in a soft and calculating tone.

The autobot scoffed. "Oh sure, and have one of your wacko doctors chop me up! That sounds like a fun way to go! It's definitely better than being bored to death by your blasted interrogations."

"Your humor does not decieve me. I know it hurts. If you let me in, I can make the pain go away. Would you like that?" Grimspur purred, his tentacles twitching slightly.

"Sir, if I may, that isn't what we're here for! Isn't the point to have him be in pain to a point of telling us what we want to know?" Blindshot spitefully interjected.

"I have my ways of making them talk." Grimspur calmly replied. His tentacles raised from their position around his waist like a pair of snakes ready to strike, slithering towards the autobots' face and neck. "Now, I believe you were going to tell us your name."

The autobot leaned his head back and wrinkled his enstril in obvious discomfort.

"Do I unsettle you?" Grimspur asked.

"Nah. I've seen sparklings sc-scarier than you!" the prisoner lied.

"Really? I am quite flattered. Now, what is your name. Or if you like, I can simply take it from your mind." Grimspur said, as three long, thin needles retracted from the ends of both of his tentacles.

"What?!" Blindshot snapped, twisting his face into an expression of confusion.

"Have either of you heard of mnemosurgery?" Grimspur cooed, gently stroking the side of the autobot's face with the side of one of his tentacles, the needles coming dangerously close to his optic.

At that, the prisoner dropped his act and gasped, pulling himself away from the needles and rattling the chains that bound him. "N-no! Y-you-you wouldn't! No!" he yowled, while Blindshot looked over at his commanding officer in confusion.

"St-stay back! Please don't! Don't make me forget them! I-I-I can't! Keep your slimy tentacles out of my head, you creep! Get away from me!" the prisoner screamed.

Grimspur pulled his tentacles back slightly to avoid stabbing the prisoner in the eye while his optic narrowed and he tilted his head with almost a smug satisfaction. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. You're already very injured at this point. One slip and you could have lost an optic. We wouldn't want that. Now, will you cooperate?"

The prisoner went limp in his chains and hung his head. "It's Longshot." he said solemnly, almost with a slight sniffle.

"What?!" Blindshot snapped.

"Longshot. That's my name." the autobot repeated.

"Gooooood." Grimspur cooed in encouragement. It was unclear if he was mocking the prisoner or if he was genuinely concerned, and something about the way he said it sent a chill through Blindshot's neural net.

"And stay out of my head!" Longshot added with a spiteful glare, regaining some of his snappy charisma from before.

"I don't believe I have a choice." Grimspur replied. "However, the more you cooperate, the less I'll be required to...poke around, if I might say."

"What do you mean?" Blindshot asked, still confused. "what are you going to do?"

"A simple operation." Grimspur said nonchalantly. "A few little pricks and I can rewire this mech's entire personality if I want to. You see, my dear Blindshot, mnemosurgery is an operation upon the mind. With it, I have access to all of his memory files and I can turn them on and off like a flick of a switch or simply rewrite them as I please. I can make this bot forget everything at the center of his being and everyone he has ever loved. In fact, I can turn him against them. Now do you see why physical harm is not required? The drones already had their fun, and they had trouble making him talk. But I hardly had to touch this mech and already we've made more progress than several sessions with the physical methods would have ever allowed."

At that, Blindshot shuddered, eyeing Grimspur with a bit of nervousness and uncertainty. "So....you do that with your...."

"My needles. Yes." Grimspur replied, before looking back at Longshot.

"Who all does it work on?" Blindshot asked, cocking his head to the side.

"Anyone above a certain level of intelligence." Grimspur said, inching his tentacles closer to the prisoner again and watching the autobot squirm with a bit of disinterest.

Blindshot narrowed his optics under his visor. "Am I above that level of intelligence?" he asked, swallowing hard.

"Would you like to find out?" Grimspur replied, turning towards the young seeker and pointing a needle-tipped tentacle at him.

"N-no sir!" Blindshot replied with the closest sound to a nervous squeak he had ever made in his life.

"Gooooood." Grimspur purred. "Now follow my orders, and you won't have to find out what it feels like. Of course, there's a possibility I did it already and you don't even know. It's mere child's play to make someone forget that a mnemosurgery ever happened, compared to some of the other things I've done."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The conversation at the end of this chapter about mnemosurgery most likely stuck with Blindshot for the rest of his life. Even if Grimspur never used mnemosurgery on him, Blindshot from then on began to doubt which of his memories were really his own and grew terrified of showing emotion around his commanding officer. 
> 
> Blindshot is essentially a very arrogant character who values his intelligence and believes he is smarter than most everybody else. When Grimspur replied to the young bot, he made a jab at his very intelligence which is something that Blindshot believes is at the center of who he is. I'm sure Blindshot remembered this wound to his pride much more vividly than the slap to the face. Sometimes emotional abuse can feel a lot stronger than physical abuse because it leaves wounds on one's soul while physical abuse will heal on its own.


	2. chapter 2

As the tentacle snaked towards his neck, Longshot couldn't help but squirm. Blindshot crossed his arms over his chest and watched, regaining his composure. The three long, silvery needles flashed by the mech's plating before Grimspur delicately inserted them into the back of Longshot's neck. The autobot gasped his frame spasmed against the chains, but his struggle was no match for the bindings that held him as Grimspur patched into his neural net. 

*****

The air was heavy with dust and ashes. Most of the nearby buildings were destroyed, and everywhere the autobot looked there was shrapnel. That didn't matter though. He had his optics trained on something in the distance, a small disheveled tin shack, one of the few buildings that was still standing. In it, he'd left several cycles worth of energon and first aid supplies, as well as a stash of all the small mementos and games of his youth that hadn't been destroyed in the explosion that had destroyed his home. However, that wasn't what he was looking for. There was something else he'd left in the shack that was far more valuable to him than any of the other items. His spark sank when he realized that what he was looking for wasn't there. 

Grimspur could feel the autobot's dismay and melancholy resonating in his own spark as he watched. He almost wanted to pull out and to stop watching, seeing the destruction of the planet he himself had left behind before it had gotten to the current state he was witnessing as he prowled through the depths of the prisoner's mind. 

Just as the autobot turned to leave the shack however, something small and white tackled his leg. Longshot quickly drew his blaster, pulling away at the sudden attack before he realized that the thing on his leg was nothing of consequence. In fact, as the ivory, emerald green, and royal blue mech looked down and met the optics of his assumed attacker, an overwhelming relief flooded his systems. 

"Longshot!" the little thing clamped to his leg exclaimed in excitement. 

In an instant, Longshot's frame spasmed and his optics welled with cleansing fluid as he put his blaser away and scooped the sparkling up in his arms. 

"Do you have any idea how worried I was about you?!" Longshot exclaimed, tightening his grasp on the child and beginning to rub the kid's back in slow circles, his engine thrumming in his chest as he walked over to a crude, makeshift bench and sat down. He placed the sparkling on his knee and the little one blinked up at him incredulously. 

"I wanted to supwise you!" the little one said, beaming up at him. 

"I could have killed you! Don't ever do that again, you hear me?!" Longshot snapped through his tears. The child blinked and tilted his head, oblivious to what he had done wrong. 

"Scatterblast, I mean it. Life isn't a game. You don't tackle mechs who are armed, got it?" Longshot said. 

"But bwuvy, evewyone has arms!" Scatterblast said, grasping one of Longshot's thumbs with his own tiny little hands. 'Bwuvy' was the nickname he used, because he couldn't yet properly pronounce the word 'brother.'

Longshot sighed. "What I mean is, don't grab bots who have weapons! You'll get hurt!" 

"But you have weapons! And you don't hurt people!" Scatterblast incredulously said, smiling innocently up at Longshot. 

"That....that's not tru-Don't say that." Longshot said, pausing a moment. 

"Why not, big bwuver?"Scatterblast asked. 

Longshot was silent for a moment. He closed his optics and allowed the cleansing fluid tears to fall down his face. He then whispered under his breath, "I've hurt more people than I hope you'll ever have to know." 

Scatterblast blinked and scrambled closer to Longshot's chassis, curling up against his chest and placing his head against the older bot's plating, listening to his sparkbeat and his internal mechanisms. The little one thought for a moment, before he looked up into Longshot's optics. "Bwuvy, do you have a boo-boo?"

Longshot sighed softly, gently wrapping his arms around his little brother and pulling the little one even closer. "........." he looked down at the little one, just sitting there and holding him close as if the small bot was his only anchor to reality. 

"No. There's no 'boo-boo'. The medics fixed me up alright. Why do you ask?" Longshot said with a weary sigh. 

"Your eyes are boo-boo sad." Scatterblast replied, looking up at the older bot in concern. 

"Well...yeah they're 'boo-boo sad.' I thought I'd lost you. And honestly, you're the only thing I have to be happy for right now. If something happened to you I'd..." Longshot bit his lower lip plating. 

"But bwuvy..." Scatterblast said, patting his brother's servo, "I'm not lost. I'm founded right here!" 

"I see that, sunspark." Longshot replied with a small chuckle. "I just thought you were lots for a little bit there and you had me worried."

"Why was big bwuvy wowwied?" Scatterblast inquired, his big blue optics staring plaintively up at his brother.

"I was...I was scared. I was scared that the bad bots had found you and that you were in trouble. Maybe you'll understand when you're older.." Longshot said with a sigh, hugging the little frame tighter as he said it and beginning to stroke his little brother's back. 

"But you don't has to be scareded!" Scatterblast said. 

"Oh? And why is that?" Longshot asked. 

Scatterblast smiled up at him and gleefully exclaimed, "Because bwuvy is biggerer and strongerer than all the bad bots and bwuvy can just BAM BAM POW POW shoot them in the heads or something. Because big bwuvy is a hero! And bit bwuvy can send the bad bots right to the after-you-die-life!" 

At that, Longshot chuckled, and then he stood up, holding the sparkling at an arm's length and tossing him playfully up in the air. "Is that so?" he said, smiling wearily.

"Yeah!" Scatterblast chirped. 

"Well, alright then. If that's how it is, then 'big bwuvy's' gonna give em' hell!" Longshot said, tossing his little brother in the air as Scatterblast squealed in delight. 

*****

The memory faded into another, later interaction between the two, and Grimspur couldn't help but feel a sinking feeling in his spark as he intentionally pried at the mech's brain for more memories of that giggling little sparkling instead of memories pertaining to autobot secrets and the war effort. He really couldn't help himself, with how dismal the facility had been and how he yearned so much for happier, more peaceful times to himself. 

How ironic it was indeed that the 'big bad bots' were the ones at that moment giving Longshot hell. Grimspur wondered if the autobot was reliving the emotion from his memories or not. He didn't have much time to think of it before another conversation between the autobot and his little brother came to the forefront of their minds. 

*****

"Hey, big guy! Have you been eating your energon like I told you?" Longshot asked, cradling the little one in an affectionate embrace. He poked his head out of the shack and used the hand that wasn't holding the sparkling to motion to a lilac, peach, and orange femme outside. Grimspur assumed that the femme must have been someone else related to the mech with the emotions of familiarity and kinship attached to that memory, but there was something else. Something different that he couldn't quite decipher. 

"This is what I wanted to show ya'! Come on in! I promise he isn't like the other bots I've introduced you to, and unlike Dustbuster, this one doesn't bite." Longshot called out. 

The femme carried herself with an air of nervousness and discipline that seemed to resonate across the field of shrapnel and junk as she stepped closer to Longshot. 

"I didn't know you had a sparkling..." she said, a bit of spite and possibly jealousy in her voice. She was definitely trying to hold back her hostility at the prospect of the situation. 

"Relax, Backfire. I can assure you I'm still single. This is just my little brother. Now why don't you two get acquainted while I restock the supplies." Longshot said, setting the child down and smirking. 

The femme narrowed her optics as the child toddled over to her. He couldn't have been more than three cycles old. 

"Hi there! Are you bwuvy's femmefwiend?" Scatterblast immediately asked. 

Backfire scoffed while Longshot let out an audible chuckle. 

"I'm....I'm his friend friend." Backfire stated, staring down at the little one. 

"Bwuvy says he wants you to be his conjunx enduwa! Would that make you my cawwier, since bwuvy is like a siwe?" Scatterblast asked, placing his little hands on her lower leg plating. 

The femme gasped and shot Longshot a confused look, before she shook her head. "Your...uhm...'brother' has never mentioned that to me." she said, kneeling down on Scatterblast's level. 

Longshot's face flushed a bright shade of blue and he nudged his little brother in the back with his foot. "I thought we agreed you'd shut up about that, Scatz!" the mech said, looking at Backfire in embarrassment. 

Scatterblast giggled out loud and said, "But I want miss Backfiwe to be my cawwier!" 

Longshot sighed in exasperation and stooped down next to the two of them and sighed. "It's her choice, not mine." he said, patting Scatterblast on the head. 

Backfire flustered slightly, looking down at the sparkling with a slightly confused grimace before her optics once again traveled to Longshot's face. Longshot's face was turning a bright shade of blue and he sheepishly reached his arm behind him and scratched nervously at his shoulder plating. 

"Alright, Scatterblast. That's enough. Why don't you go play while I have a PRIVATE conversation with miss Backfire, okay?" Longshot said, flustering quite a bit. 

Backfire stood up and narrowed her optics, unimpressed. 

"But I don't know any good games!" Scatterblast protested, walking up to his brother and placing his tiny little servos on his leg. 

".....Well...then...then we'll make one." Longshot replied, looking down at the sparkling as an excuse to avoid locking optics with the femme. 

"Weally?!" Scatterblast chirped in excitement. 

"Yeah! It'll be our special game. Hmmmm... let's see.... why don't you make a list in your head of all the good things you can think of and then come back to me when you've counted all the good things in the shack. How's that?" Longshot said.

"But there are gajillions of good things and I can't count to that much yet!" Scatterblast whined. 

Longshot pinched the bridge of his enstril deep in thought and sighed loudly. "Oookay....then see how many you can count to. But I need you to go play over there while I talk to Backfire, 'kay?" 

"Okay...." Scatterblast happily chirped. The little mech skipped along into the shack and began silently counting in his head, while Backfire and Longshot stood outside gazing awkwardly into each other's optics. 

"What did you tell him?" Backfire said, a slight growl in her tones as she crossed her arms in a gesture of closing herself off from the ivory, emerald green, and royal blue mech. 

"N-nothing, really." Longshot stammered. 

Backfire narrowed her optics. 

"Look....Backfire....I know it's been only a few cycles we've known each other. But...well...I don't know how many more cycles we'll last until one or both of us gets caught in the crossfire of the war." Longshot said. 

The femme exvented slowly and remained silent, listening carefully to his every word. 

"I know it's a little soon, but of all the bots I've met in my life, there's always been something about you that's different, and I...." he continued. 

Backfire turned around, turning her back to him and closing her optics as she hung her head. 

Longshot stood there, not sure if he should approach her or not. "....Backfire, there's no one else who I'd like to spend the last few cycles of my life with. And it doesn't matter how long or short that is. The truth is, I....I love you." he said, reaching out his servo. 

The femme's shoulders twitched slightly as a small sound escaped her intake, almost like a mix between a wheeze and a gasp. 

"I know this is sudden. And..I..I won't hold it against you if you don't feel the same way about me. The war might be the thing making me...making me so vocal about how I feel... but the truth is, war or peace, dead or alive, whether you feel the same way about me or not, I love you." Longshot said, stepping closer and lightly placing a servo on her shoulder. 

"Don't." Backfire replied, shrugging him off slightly. 

"Okay...I guess...I guess I see how it is." he said, pulling his hand back and looking at the ground. 

"Don't..." she repeated, turning around, her voice shaking. She met his optics, and it was only then that he noticed the streams of cleansing fluid falling down her face from her optics. The femme was crying. Longshot didn't quite know why, until she stepped closer, their chest plates almost touching. 

"Don't what, Backfire?" the mech asked, a bit of cleansing fluid welling in his own optics as she looked at him. 

"Don't you ever leave me." She said, in barely a whisper, leaning in and wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face into his plating. 

"I...." Longshot started, before he relaxed and hugged her back around the waist. "I was never planning on it." he said, his smile returning to his face. 

*****

Grimspur retracted his needles from the back of the autobot's neck and turned to look at Blindshot. Blindshot was looking at him with the most perplexed and mildly disgusted face he had ever seen the younger bot pull. 

"What?" Grimspur hissed, stepping back and away from the prisoner. 

Blindshot looked back and forth between the prisoner and Grimspur, gawking slightly. 

"Tell me what it is this instant or I'll rip it from your mind! I'm not in a mood for showing grace, fool!" Grimspur snapped, having all but lost his calm demeanor. Something wet dropped to the floor between his pedes, and the one eyed mech looked down in curiosity to see what it was. There was another droplet of the stuff, coming directly from Grimspur's singular optic. 

"Sir, are you...are you crying?!" Blindshot asked. 

Grimspur paused for a moment, before he raised a servo to his optic and wiped away the cleansing fluid that was no doubt dripping down his face. He shrugged it off and said, "Something must have gotten in my eye." 

"You were crying, weren't you?! I saw..." Blindshot said, before the taller mech sprang forward and grabbed him around the throat. 

"You will speak of this to no one! Understood?!" Grimspur growled, tightening his grasp around Blindshot's neck. 

Blindshot wheezed slightly, while the autobot prisoner just watched. 

Grimspur raised his tentacles over the seeker's head, poised and ready to strike. In one quick, swift motion, he jabbed the needles firmly into the back of his apprentice's neck and raised his hand, lifting the bot off of the ground by his neck. 

"Let him go!" Longshot suddenly exclaimed, wriggling a bit and rattling the chains that held him in place. 

At that, Grimspur whipped his head around and made a hissing noise in the back of his voice box, releasing his grasp on Blindshot's neck and dropping the seeker to the floor. He paused for a moment, before he looked down at the smear of energon on his servo that had just been holding the seeker and at how Blindshot was clawing at his throat, the mesh badly dented and leaking slightly. 

Grimspur blinked, pulling his tentacle out of the seeker's neck and bringing both of his tentacles closer to his frame. Blindshot looked up at him from under his visor, trembling slightly as he stared up at his superior. 

"That's all for today. I'll....I'll take you by the med bay and we can grab a drink afterwards, shall we?" Grimspur said. 

Blindshot stared at him for a moment, before he slowly nodded, a bit of a perplexed look crossing his face plate. Grimspur extended a hand to the young seeker and helped him to his feet, before Blindshot looked over at Longshot and around at the cell and asked, "Where am I?" 

At that, Grimspur froze, an icy chill creeping through his neural net. Without realizing it, he'd done something. He'd inadvertently rewritten the young con's memory, causing him to forget the past several cycles of being at the facility.


	3. Chapter 3

Grimspur paused for a moment, before he blinked his optic slowly. The realization of what he had done had hit him very hard, and it was all he could think about as he walked down the corridor towards a special cell. He had of course returned Blindshot's memories of the facility, all except for the memories the young seeker had of seeing him cry. He couldn't let anyone know about that, especially Megatron. Usually, he was able to hold himself together and save it for when he was able to retreat to his quarters, but the emotions behind the memories he had read from the autobot had stirred something in him, something buried far beneath the surface. 

The mnemosurgeon continued on his trek down the hallway until finally he made his way towards the experimentation ward. He took a left down towards the E wing of the facility, where only the most volatile and potentially dangerous prisoners and experiments were kept. The datapad in his left servo lit up for a second, indicating a knew message. 

Without a moment's hesitation, Grimspur lifted the tablet up and scrolled through its contents, reading the messages in their entirety. There was nothing he found exactly interesting or of any consequence to him, and so he continued his trek down the hall with a hiss of air escaping his vents. 

When the mech reached his destination, he paused at the door and pulled up the file report on the subject behind it and scanned it over a few times. That particular experiment had been a difficult one from the start, somehow having managed to kill several vehicon drones and even after being restrained and subdued, that particular prisoner had talked at least seven drones into killing themselves, not counting the ones that had attempted to in the past week. Of course, Grimspur had been the one who had been tasked with reprogramming the drones and fixing their memories of the occasion in a way that got them back into working order. 

The drones had been growing increasingly unstable lately due to many of them having been forged from 'recycled' materials, and Grimspur had his work cut out for him. His mnemosurgery skills were often only called upon as a last resort when all other methods had been attempted, simply because the higher ups did not trust his capabilities. 

Grimspur exvented again as he methodically punched in the code to the cell and stepped inside. He had deliberately chosen to leave Blindshot behind for this one, because the mech was still recovering from their last encounter. Plus, there was no telling what this prisoner could do to a rookie like Blindshot. 

Grimspur closed the door behind him, stepping forward towards the center of the room. In the center was a medical berth with some of the highest security clamps and restraints the facility could afford. There were so many locks and fail safes that it was hard to see the form of the bot restrained under all that security. 

The prisoner was hooked up to an IV, a glowing magenta fluid being pumped directly into her veins by a machine. Grimspur paused, narrowing his optic at the prisoner. From what he could see under all the locks and chains, it was a femme. Of course, he would not have known that if he had not read her file. Her mouth was secured shut with a clamp, locked tightly down like the rest of her. 

Grimspur could see the pain in her optics. He could sense the blood lust and fury pouring out of her essence, with the way those almond shaped magenta optics tracked his every move. He could hardly tell what color her plating was under the dried energon and dust that seemed to coat her finish from helm to pedes. Grimspur took another step towards the femme and her vents let out a long, loud warning hiss. 

"I am not here to harm you." Grimspur cooed soothingly, freezing in his tracks. 

The femme's chest heaved as her vents hissed loudly again. 

"What good do you really think that will do now? You are completely confined and restrained. It is no longer possible for you to harm anyone else. You are not getting out of here. So why do you need to struggle?" Grimspur said softly, the cadence of his voice going up and down in an almost mechanical, sing song manner. 

Grimspur took another step closer. The femme regarded him with a seething hatred that he had hardly ever seen before. 

"I am not here to harm you. Lie still, and it will all be over. I can make the pain go away, if you wish. I can remove the clamp so you can speak again. Then we can have a real conversation. Would you like that?" Grimspur said, his voice continuing its lilting tones but devoid of any emotion. 

The femme continued to glare. 

Grimspur in turn, stepped even closer and touched a finger to the lock on the clamp that was drilled into the femme's face plate. slowly and carefully, watching her face for any sign of sudden moves, Grimspur released the lock and carefully pulled the mouth clam off, removing it in an opposite fashion to how Blindshot had done just the other day. 

The moment the gag was off, the femme bared her dentas into a menacing snarl and attempted to bite at his fingertips. Grimspur however had pulled his hand back in time and all the femme got between her dentas was thin air. 

"For a pacifist, you sure put up a fight." Grimspur commented. The static charge between his antennae hummed slightly. 

"I'm not a pacifist." the femme spat angrily. "I was simply raised by cowards who wouldn't fight back."

"Are you naturally this aggressive or is it the altered energon mixture they no doubt have you on?" Grimspur asked nonchalantly. 

"Why don't you unlock me and you'll find out." the femme purred, suddenly lowering her tones to something much softer than the infuriated snapping from before. 

Grimspur tapped the center of the femme's forehead pensively. He then said, after a slight pause, "That is not within my jurisdiction." 

"Don't you have the keys?" she asked, being quite direct and concise about what she really wanted. 

"Negative. Although, I could put a word in with my superiors if you are willing to behave yourself." he replied. 

The femme studied him for a moment, trying to decipher the look in his singular glowing red optic. 

"Your superiors must think I'm dangerous, don't they?" the femme said with a calculating snarl. 

"Not in your current state, no." Grimspur said. 

"Then why do they have me in chains?" the femme purred. 

"How much of that stuff have they pumped into your system..." Grimspur mused, looking at the fuel pump machine feeding the magenta stuff into her fuel lines. He winced slightly as he looked at the machine, but with his expressionless one eyed face it could have easily been perceived as a twitch. He checked the reading on the machine and then stepped back from the femme slightly, wondering how she was even alive. Most bots that had taken in that much of that particular synthetic fuel mixture would have gone into automatic shut down at half of the dosage that this femme was on, and yet somehow she was still alive and fully alert and aware of her surroundings. 

Grimspur looked back at the femme deep in thought, meeting the hatred and determination in her gaze as he swung his head back to face her. 

"I take it you have no intention of releasing me anytime soon, do you?" the femme asked bitterly. 

"Unfortunately, that is not within my jurisdiction." Grimspur stated. 

"Then get out and leave me here to rot in peace." she growled.

"Believe me, I have no intention of doing so any time soon." he purred, once again stepping closer. 

The femme scowled, and Grimspur let out a long sigh through his vents as he stared at her in contemplation. His tentacles retracted and raised slightly, hovering inches from the femme's face. Her optics widened and then narrowed at the realization of the helplessness of her situation. Grimspur could see his reflection staring back up at him in her optics, and he froze for a second. He then shook his head and the needles extended from the ends of his tentacles. 

"What are you going to do to me?" the femme snapped, cringing slightly at the sight of the needles. 

"I can assure you that you will forget me in due time. This will not hurt any more than what they have already done to you." Grimspur replied calmly. 

"You don't scare me." the femme said, as the tentacles slithered closer to her neck. 

Grimspur gently inserted the needles into the side of her neck, slipping them into her plating in a much less violent fashion then how he had jabbed them into his victims the day before. "That was not my intention. I was certain the others who have worked with you have already done enough of that."

The moment he entered the femme's mind, he could feel her fury surrounding him. Her pain consumed him, and he could feel the rage coursing like fire through her fuel lines at the helplessness of her situation. He didn't need to read her file to be aware of the extent of the trauma that they had put her through. Within seconds of inserting the needles, he pulled them out before her trauma had a chance to consume his mind and send him offline. Even if he had been prepared for what he had just witnessed, it would not have swayed his decision to end the operation. It was not safe for him to continue. 

And yet...through the trauma, there was something there. There was something different about this femme, a seething determination and a will to survive. No matter what they had done to her, the femme had been relentless and had continued on with an unbreakable willpower. Even after Grimspur had removed his needles from her neck, she still had that crazed and infuriated look in her optics. 

Grimspur pulled his tentacles back and brought them closer to his frame. He slowly closed his optic and looked back at the femme. 

"My deepest apologies." he said softly. 

The femme was silent, glaring at him spitefully, being fully aware of the brief invasion of her mind. 

"There is nothing I can do." Grimspur added, turning around and walking closer to the door. He punched in the code and then stepped into the hallway, allowing a beam of light to fall upon the berth that she was chained to. He stood there for a long moment, giving the femme one last look before he stepped into the hall and closed the door behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

The void of space seemed to drift along endlessly through the window as the femme stared out at the vast expanse of stars. Her lilac, peach, and orange plating was covered in a fine layer of dust as if she had not moved for several days. Her face was almost frozen in a grimace as she once again glanced down at the datapad in her servos. On its screen was a list of the names of every autobot who had fallen in battle. Her spark sank as she read it. No matter how many times she re-read it, the list did not change. 

"I miss him too, ye know." a short grey bot chirped, making his way towards her. 

"He isn't dead. He can't be... I SAW them drag him away!" Backfire replied, looking down at the bot who had moved to stand beside her. "If only I had been just a few kliks closer! If I hadn't used up all my rockets, I could have saved him!"

"Aye, I'll take your word for it. But ye don't go an' beatin' yourself up about it, now do ye? Time has a way of making these things go down softer." he replied, standing up on his tip toes and trying to look out the window to see what she was seeing. 

"I was so close! I could have made the shot..." she said, clenching her fists and closing her optics. 

"The past is in the past. Ye did all ye could, and that's all that matters." the grey mech replied sympathetically. 

The femme let out a rattling sigh through her vents. "It wasn't enough." she said. 

The mech shook his head and gripped the edge of the windowsill with a servo, trying to heave himself up on the ledge so that he could more properly look her in the eye. "Ye can't let that thought consume you. There are living bots that need yer help. Wha' about this little detour ye' dragged me aft on? Sure, ye made a mistake. But yer makin' up fer it." 

The corner of Backfire's intake twitched slightly in almost a smile as she grabbed the handle that protruded from the grey mech's back and lifted him up, helping him perch on the windowsill. She nodded in slight amusement as he folded his arms in mock indignation and raised an optic ridge at her. 

"Thank you for coming along, Dusty." Backfire said as another longing sigh rattled through her vents. 

"Only HE ev'r had a right to call me that, and ye knows it. That's Dustbuster to ye! An' I's expect ye to rememb'r it!" he chirped back, shaking a fist at her. 

"My deepest apologies, Dustbuster..." Backfire replied, wincing slightly. 

Dustbuster chuckled slightly. "Ah, 'twas simply a joke. I was a tryin' ta lighten the mood, I was. Don't get yer' tank in a twist, missy. Longshot always was better at that then I was, he was." 

Backfire winced again at the mention of Longshot's name, to which Dustbuster replied by patting her gently on the shoulder. 

She lowered her head and glanced back at her datapad, Longshot's name still sticking out like a sore thumb. 

"Ye knows ye were lucky he ev'r had eyes for ye, ye'know. That mech always did 'ave a special place in my spark. Was my best friend, he was. I'm ev'r so sorry to see him go..." Dustbuster said. 

Backfire nodded. "It's so quiet without him on this ship. I just wish I had gotten to....gotten to tell him...." she closed her optics as cleansing fluid tears began streaming down her face. She put a servo to a small vial that hung around her neck, and Dustbuster's optics traveled to it for a long moment. 

"Spit it out, lass." Dustbuster said, wiping his own optics and continuing to stare at the vial around her neck. 

"I just wish I had gotten to tell him I loved him one more time." Backfire whimpered, stepping forward and pulling the grey minibot into a hug. 

Dustbuster froze for a second before reaching over her shoulder between the missile racks and her neck and compassionately patted her on the back, a bit startled by her sudden display of affection. 

"Will you spend the night with me in my quarters? I don't think I can manage on my own." Backfire asked, hugging the short grey bot even tighter. 

Dustbuster replied by going limp and pulling back a bit from her hug. "Nooo, lass. I'm sorry. It would be disrespecting his honor, and plus, I don't exactly swing that weey... I'd like to think he isn't dead yet, ye know." 

Backfire instantly released him from the hug and stepped back, narrowing her optics at the smaller mech. 

Dustbuster's face flushed blue slightly and he crossed his arms over his chest with an awkward shrug. "Sorry ta' disappoint..."

Backfire stood there staring at him in confusion for a long moment, before her optics widened and she gasped. "No! I...I didn't mean like that! I just... I thought we could sit for awhile and maybe talk about our favorite memories of him. I'm not..... He and I never even....I wouldn't...." She wheezed slightly, stepping even farther back from the minibot in the windowsill. "Dusty, I like you...but not...not like THAT!"

Dustbuster sighed in relief and nodded. "Aye, lass. The feeling is mutual. And now that THAT's over with, I think it's about time we landed this sucker, don't ye think?" 

Backfire nodded, and Dustbuster hopped down from the windowsill. 

The femme then paused and looked down at the mech out of curiosity and asked, "What did you mean when you said you 'don't swing that way?'" 

At that, Dustbuster blushed and replied with, "Ah....Nothing. Ye don't need ta' know. Anyways, it's best I head to the brig afore we crash this ol' tub. I got a degree in flooring, not flying. An' since our expert pilot is currently disposed of, I best be takin' the wheel." 

Backfire raised an optic ridge and nodded. She watched as the little bot dashed off towards the brig and wondered what she had said that had made him fluster so badly. He seemed like such a confident and typically self assured and laid back bot. Backfire just shrugged it off and went back to staring out the window and repeatedly glancing back at her datapad. 

"I promised, Longshot..." she whispered to herself, wrapping her fingers around the vial around her neck. She held it up to the light and looked at the glowing blue fluid inside, feeling the tears silently slip down her face as she once again found herself staring at the innermost energon inside the vial. It was all that she had left of him, although she continued to hope that they would be able to bring him back. 

Backfire let go of the vial and allowed it to fall back against her plating. She returned to staring out the window, noticing the growing orb of metal in the distance. Cybertron was looming closer and closer as the ship flew on, and she couldn't help but feel dread and fear at the thought of what they were doing, all for a promise she had made to Longshot. Her and Dustbuster had left the dwindling ranks of their team on a foreign planet and had hijacked the ship in the middle of the night in order to make a quick stop on Cybertron to do something that was probably against a lot of regulations. 

Longshot's words rang on and on in Backfire's auditory receptors as she continued to stare out the window. "If anything happens to me, make sure he's safe. He can't take care of himself on his own for too long..." 

She closed her optics and sighed once more as she felt the ship shaking as it entered Cybertron's atmosphere. "We're coming, Scatterblast. I promised...." 

Within minutes, the sound of the ship's engines died down as it touched down on the planet's surface. Backfire and Dustbuster quickly exited the ship and stepped out onto the planet's surface, looking in dismay at all the shrapnel and ash. 

"Are ye sure this is where he left him?" Dustbuster asked. 

Backfire nodded solemnly, stepping forward to the familiar little shack. Her spark sank. It had only been mere days ago that he had proposed to her just outside that very dwelling. Backfire could smell the charred buildings and dried energon wafting up from the ruins of the former city. Before she could reminisce for another moment, a small voice screamed in excitement in the distance and a small white mech came barreling towards them. 

"BWUUUUVVVVYYYYYYY!" The sparkling yowled, bursting with enthusiasm as he ran towards them and their ship. Scatterblast stopped in his tracks halfway and froze, tilting his head in confusion when he realized that his big brother was not among the bots exiting the ship. 

Backfire took a few steps towards him, closing the gap between herself and the sparkling. She knelt down in front of Scatterblast, reaching out and gently placing a servo on the tiny mech's shoulder. 

"Where's bwuvy?" Scatterblast asked, blinking innocently up at her. 

At that, Backfire reached out and scooped the sparkling into her arms, pulling him onto a tight hug and bursting into tears. She could hardly stay strong any longer, even though she knew she should for the little one's sake. 

Scatterblast hugged her back, oblivious to anything being amiss. He then leaned back and looked into her optics, tilting his little head. "Where's bwuvy?" he asked again. 

"He was....he was taken away." Backfire replied. 

Scatterblast blinked innocently, not quite understanding the gravity of her words. Dustbuster stood back and watched the interaction, trying to hold it together and keep his own optics from leaking. 

"Why is miss Backfire boo-boo sad?" Scatterblast asked, pouting slightly. 

Backfire closed her optics and let the tears fall down her face. "Bwuvy is far away...the decepticons....they took him. I'm so sorry, Scatterblast. I..."

Scatterblast patted her cheek with a tiny servo. "Don't worry. Whenever bwuvy is far away, he always comes back. I get sad sometimes too when he goes bye-bye." 

"No...you don't understand! Bwuvy isn't...Longshot....isn't coming back." Backfire sobbed, holding the little one closer to her chest. 

Scatterblast tilted his head again and smiled up at her. "We can take bwuvy back then." he replied. "If the decepticons taked bwuvy away, we can take bwuvy away from the decepticons." 

"We might not be able to... They might have already..." Backfire replied, before she felt a servo on her shoulder from behind. She swiveled her head around to meet the optics of Dustbuster, who was shaking his helm. 

"Don't." the grey bot said. "Hope is too scarce in these parts."

Backfire nodded and stood up, still holding the sparkling in her arms. "Come now, Scatterblast. Come with us. We'll keep you safe." she said softly. 

"But what about bwuvy?" Scatterblast asked, squirming slightly in her arms. 

"....." Backfire looked at Scatterblast, and then down at Dustbuster. 

"As long as we can help it, ye'll be seein' yer 'bwuvy' safe an' sound in no time, kid. I promise." Dustbuster said, reaching up and patting the sparklings foot, as it was all that he could reach. 

Backfire clenched her jaw, but she decided to say nothing. After all, she agreed with Dustbuster and believed that as much as she could help it, she couldn't allow the little one to give up hope. Backfire and Dustbuster returned to the ship with Scatterblast in tow, and as Dusty fired up the engines, Backfire could not help but feel her hope fading as they slowly drifted away from the smoldering wreck of a planet below.


	5. Chapter 5

The energon spun in the cosmic green centrifuge at a hypnotic speed. Grimspur could not help but allow his mind to wander as he stared into it. Within the vials in the centrifuge were samples of innermost energon from only the strongest and most physically capable of warriors. 

"Beautiful, isn't it, watching the lights as they dance around in there, huh?" a voice chirped from behind him. 

Grimspur turned around to meet the optics of a short female seeker with a mohawk-looking fin in the middle of her head and a multi-chrome paint job that shimmered and danced and shifted its colors from glittering sunset to twilight hues. The femme smirked cheerily up at him and flipped her goggles down over her optics. "I'd say that's enough for now, Afterglow. I think I'm gettin' a bit dizzy."

The neon green centrifuge obediently stopped spinning and then transformed, ejecting a rack of the vials through a compartment in its chest. The centrifuge, who in turn was actually a short mech that stood at around twelve feet tall then apathetically stood there as the color-shifting femme rubbed her servos together in excitement. The femme then stooped down and pulled out the vials and set them on the counter. 

"Right! I think that about wraps that up! Now would you be a dear and fetch me my gloves, Afty?" the femme said, to which the short neon green mech responded by waddling over to a cabinet and pulling out a pair of gaudy neon pink gloves and handed them to the femme. The mech then transformed and silently sat there with no comment about the mildly offensive nickname the femme had just called him. 

"Thank you!" The femme sang out, pulling the gloves over her servos with a bit of unnecessary dramatic flair. 

"I see your progress is minimal on that hyper reflective camouflage paint you claimed to be developing." Grimspur commented, to which the femme cheerily replied with, "Well, I wouldn't exactly call it camouflage but I do think it definitely suits me! And I've made quite a lot of use from the minor hiccups along the way." the femme replied, smiling as she placed the newly separated energon samples under a microscope. 

"You two should be embarrassed to call yourselves decepticons." Grimspur said. 

The femme chuckled. "I'm a geneticist and a pathologist, not a soldier, sweetheart. But I'm sure you'd love to say that to the new virus I managed to whip up last week! Nasty little bugger, that one. I can shove it up your all-too-important aft if you'd like!" she said, continuing to smile like a kid in a candy store. 

Grimspur crossed his arms in disapproval. "Your idiocy ever fails to amuse me, Skycrest." 

"Fails to amuse my aft! I have a right smashing sense of humor! Why just yesterday, I bumped a vial of corrosives over and it made its way onto a couple of energon cubes. Needless to say, I convinced some moron named Reflex to down it. Needless to say, after a quick trip to the medics, everyone in the facility's started callin' 'im Reflux!" the femme chattered back. "And anyways, it was welcome reprieve from the monumental batch of failures we'd whipped up. The protoforms keep dying on us and we don't have a means to necessarily keep the healthy ones stable for very long. We'll toss out a new batch in as soon a time as ol' Megs can fire his fusion cannon at the weaker end of the bunch, but recycled material doesn't exactly cut the bill for makin' that super soldier he ordered."

Grimspur nodded in understanding, while Skycrest used a syringe to draw a few vials of her own energon and them into Afterglow's centrifuge alt mode. Grimspur stared at the femme in shock and surprise. "You're contaminating the experiments with your own genetic material?" he growled. 

"Oh yes I am." Skycrest sassed. "Like I said, the bucket boss keeps failing to provide new material, and seein' as all our best men are busy dyin' on the front lines, this is all we've got. And yeah, I know it's against the rules but tough luck. Afterglow's helped a bit too, but despite our best efforts, our spark types are non compatible with most of the stuff we get and before we know it the newsparks' own genes are eatin' them from the inside out. It's entertaining, but not very convenient." 

"Normally, I'd approve of your practices, but with how many times you've altered your own CNA for cosmetic and entertainment purposes, I'd say that your practices are heavily unwise." Grimspur said. 

"Well get me a new fragg'n guinea pig and I'll stop usin' my own stuff!" Skycrest indignantly replied, her smile still not faltering. She then giggled suddenly and her head twitched to the side as she let out a little snort. 

Grimspur narrowed his optic. "What?"

"Why don't you donate a little more energon to the cause?" she said. 

Grimspur vented loudly and shook his helm. "I've given you enough samples as it is, and seeing what you've done with them, I prefer to keep my energon inside me, if it is all the same to you."

"Then get me something new, and maybe one of our little masterpieces will actually live for once! You know, maybe snag some spare CNA from some of the prisoners or something. Or maybe you could sweet talk Shockwave into letting me get my hands on that lot they stuff in the E-wing." Skycrest replied.

Grimspur froze, his mind suddenly flashing the memory of the prisoner he had been assigned to do a reading on in that sector and his fists clenched in a reflection of the prisoner's rage. He stood there completely still for a long moment, the static field between his antennae shutting completely off.

"Hey, Grimsy, are you okay?" Skycrest asked, jumping up and waving a servo in front of his optic. The leggy mech remained as still as a statue, a bit of cleansing fluid brimming at the corner of his optic. 

"Yo', Grims! Hellloooooo?" She continued. There was still no response. Skycrest shrugged and then went back to her work, before there was a sudden knock on the door to the laboratory. 

"Come in!" she called, pulling the second batch of vials from the centrifuge. 

The door hissed open, and in stepped a young olive green, scab red, and dark oak brown seeker. "I've been sent to tell Grimspur that his services are required in the interrogation room A4. I was told that I'd be able to find him here..." Blindshot stated, a slightly bewildered look on his faceplate. 

"Ah yes! You were just in time! I was seriously considering using him as a lab coat rack or a decorative door stop!" Skycrest called out from her position next to afterglow. 

Blindshot narrowed his optics. "Do I...know you?" he asked, tilting his helm at the femme. 

Skycrest snorted loudly and giggled, grinning mischievously. "Yeah sure you do!" she replied, before she reached over to the desk and grabbed a beaker of an unknown glowing orange chemical. "Here, drink this. It'll help with your attitude!" she said as she strolled over and shoved the beaker into his servo. 

Blindshot paused and took the beaker, inspecting it with a bit of confusion and curiosity. He then shrugged and lifted the beaker to his intake. Before he got a chance to even take a whiff of the beaker, however, one of Grimspur's servos shot out and slapped the beaker out of his hands. Blindshot jumped as the glass vial shattered on the floor, the orange fluid inside sizzling as it hit the ground between his feet and sizzling while it burned a hole through the floor and into level beneath them, a large drop of it landing on an unfortunate vehicon's face and melting the drone clean through. 

There was a resounding crash and a scream from the floor below them, and Skycrest let out a long and maniacal cackle. Grimspur promptly responded to her laughter by slapping the femme across the face as the static field between his antennae jolted back up, indicating his infuriated thought process. "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!" Grimspur yelled. 

Skycrest made a little noise in her vocalizer, and then she burst out laughing again. Grimspur in turn slapped her across the face again before grabbing her bottom jaw and tilting her head up to make sure she was looking him in the optic. "You could have killed him! He was actually going to drink that! Do you not realize that your actions have CONSEQUENCES?! The boy is obviously suffering from amnesia, else he would have known to stay clear of your blasted chemicals!" Grimspur roared. 

Skycrest paused in her laughter and pouted slightly, before she nodded and tried to stifle another snort. She then raised a finger and jabbed it at Grimspur in a pointing gesture. "Whose fault might that be now, eh?" she said, grinning again. 

Grimspur just released her jaw and vented loudly in exasperation, before he turned towards Blindshot and said, "Now what was it you wanted to tell me?"

"You're....needed in interrogation room A4." Blindshot replied, staring for a second in confusion at Skycrest. 

Grimspur nodded in reply and made his way towards the door. He stopped in his tracks to stare at the hole in the floor and then at Skycrest one last time. "Clean that up." he ordered, before he yanked Blindshot out of the lab by the shoulder plating and began heading down the hall.


	6. Chapter 6

"You....you just saved my life..." Blindshot exclaimed, staring up at the larger mech who was currently dragging him through the hallway. 

"It was of no consequence. If you had your memories of the facility, you would have known she was trying to poison you. She does that with all the new recruits." Grimspur coldly replied, continuing to drag the younger seeker behind him. 

"What do you mean 'if I had my memories?' What is it that I've been missing?" Blindshot asked. 

Grimspur felt a pang of guilt jab at his spark as he looked down at his apprentice. A long sigh escaped his vents and he shook his head. He then brusquely set the bot down in front of him and used his servo to dust off Blindshot's shoulder, looking him in the eyes and squatting slightly due to his taller height. "How are you feeling, Blindshot?" he sternly asked. 

Blindshot stared at him from under his visor in confusion. "I don't see a need for feelings." the young olive colored seeker said. 

Grimspur blinked and placed both of his servos on the younger mech's shoulders. "Are you physically harmed in any way?" he asked. 

"No. What's this about? And why are you touching me?" Blindshot asked. Grimspur raised a servo to strike the bot across his face, before he paused and then patted Blindshot on the head. 

"I suppose it is best I show you what you have been missing." Grimspur stated. His tentacles rose slightly and he pressed the ends of them into the sides of Blindshot's neck, carefully inserting the needles and entering the young seeker's mind. He then returned and restored all the relevant memories he had accidentally erased, excluding the ones of their earlier conflict and of him removing the memories. 

The seeker stared up at his mentor in a bit of confusion as the needles exited his neck, and then he frowned, his face returning to its usual disagreeable state. "You just did it again, didn't you?" he asked.

"Did what?" Grimspur replied, pulling the tentacles back and tilting his head. 

"That 'nemo' thing with the needles! You were in my head!" Blindshot snapped.

"So I was." Grimspur replied dully. 

Blindshot scowled even more. "What did you do?!" he snapped. 

"Nothing of consequence. Your memories are safe, I assure you." Grimspur said as he blinked slowly. 

"You were messing with my head! I know it! What did you do to me?!" Blindshot ordered, drawing out his claws and stepping towards Grimspur, his optics glowing in rage under his visor. 

"I said it was nothing of consequence. Now I suggest you take my word for it and we shall be on our way. They're waiting for us in interrogation room A4, I believe." Grimspur said, keeping his cool as he resumed his trek down the hallway, turning his back to Blindshot without really caring if the young seeker followed him or not. 

"They don't want us. They want YOU. It's always about you. You and your freaky memory needles!" Blindshot growled after him, remaining where he stood. 

"Very well. We will meet again for your next assignment. You have a choice whether to follow or not." Grimspur wearily sighed. The metal flooring clicked ominously under his feet, echoing in the silence of the hallway as Blindshot continued standing his ground, staring at him as he left. 

When Grimspur entered the assigned interrogation room, the static field between his antennae pulsed with recognition as he sat down at a table across from a slumped over form that was stasis cuffed to the table. A bit relieved when he recognized his victim for the day, Grimspur folded his servos over each other and rested the bottom of his head on them, gazing into the autobot's face. "Aaaahhhhh, Longshot. Just the bot I wanted to see." he purred, sending a chill down the mech's spinal plating. 

The vehicons guarding the prisoner on either side held their electrocution sticks dangerously close to the autobot's frame before one of them jabbed him in the side, jolting the prisoner awake. 

"To what do I owe this interaction?" Grimspur cooed as the autobot raised his head with a slight groan. 

Longshot groaned again, a slight trickle of energon dribbling down his chin from the corner of his intake. "Isn't it obvious?" Longshot croaked, a slight rasp in his voice from the exhaustion and pain he was feeling at that moment. 

The vehicons drew nearer with their shock sticks, and Grimspur held up a servo in a gesture for them to stop. 

"I suppose it might be. Once again, the physical methods have failed to yield lasting results. And so I have been summoned to....persuade you otherwise." Grimspur darkly replied. "You seem in need of medical attention. My offer from our last encounter still stands." 

"I don't want your help." Longshot snapped. 

Grimspur made a noise somewhat like a contemplative hum and tilted his head in scrutiny of the prisoner. 

"...Or your pity." Longshot added, hanging his head and wincing at the energon draining down from a gash across his face. 

"Oh no....I don't think she would like that." Grimspur replied in a mock attempt to comfort the bot, gently lifting Longshot's chin and using the side of his thumb to stroke the metal under the gash. 

"YOU LEAVE HER ALONE YOU CREEP, YOU HEAR ME! IF YOU SO MUCH AS TOUCH HER..." Longshot screamed, flinching at the decepticon's touch and banging his cuffed fists on the table. 

"As far as we're concerned, only you and I know who 'she' is. As long as you cooperate, I can assure you that no one else will discover what we are talking about." Grimspur purred, leaning in closer to the mech. He then motioned to the guards and pointed to the door. 

"Leave us." he said with a dismissive wave, before reclaiming eye contact with the prisoner. 

Longshot lowered his head in dismay as the drones exited the room and shut the door behind them, cutting off his only escape. Once they had gone, Grimspur lowered his voice and said, "The longer you fail to cooperate, the more likely it is that they target your loved ones. I do not think I need to assist you in understanding the gravity of your situation. Now, I have had a taxing orn and I prefer to not have to strain myself at this." 

Longshot nodded solemnly, acknowledging Grimspur's words. Before he knew it, Grimspur's needles were in his neck and the two of them had retreated into the confines of Longshot's mind. 

*****

As Grimspur pulled his needles out of Longshot's neck, the autobot's chest heaved slightly as he let out a longing sigh through his vents. Grimspur vented in frustration at not having found anything in the prisoner's mind that would have been useful, before he tilted his helm and sat back, realizing the mech's condition. 

Longshot was beaten and scarred. He'd been tortured countless times. And yet he still wouldn't crack under the pressure. There was something he was hiding, something that was hidden deep behind the memories of the bots he valued, something Grimspur couldn't get to because Longshot was so determined and focused on keeping them safe. 

It was then that the mnemosurgeon finally realized it. The autobot's mind wasn't just full of sappy memories of his family and friends. There was something that he knew under it all that was likely to change the tides of the war, and Grimspur was determined to find it. And when he found what Longshot was hiding, he was going to make sure that no one ever discovered whatever it was that was hidden in the depths of Longshot's mind.


	7. Chapter 7

The ashes were heavy in the air around the smoldering remains of the spacecraft as a lone bot trudged on through the roaring winds, clutching a small bundle in his arms. With every step, he struggled against the storm. He stared up at the dark clouds swirling overhead and then at the planet's surface in the distance. The mech was injured, shrapnel embedded in his right shoulder and energon leaking down his back. He knew that he was fading fast, and he had to get himself and his tiny charge to safety before he bled out, or before the storm gave chase. 

The mech's conjunx had been killed by a mysterious virus, along with half of the crew, and it was all the mech could do to grab their newly-forged protoform and make it to an escape pod before the disease overtook his systems. The mech had then piloted the tiny craft towards an area that he did not know was deep within decepticon territory. Unfortunately, the planet's atmosphere had been a bit rough on the escape pod upon entering, and an engine failure had caused the small craft to explode, sending debris flying everywhere moments after the mech had exited the escape pod. 

Through all of the debris that was flying around in the storm, he could barely make out the outline of a cluster of buildings in the distance. They were Cybertronian, obviously recently built, but the storm made it impossible to make out the obvious decepticon symbols painted on the sides. 

All that ran through the mech's head as he drew closer to the buildings through the storm was shelter. Shelter and possibly medical attention for the dying sparkling in his arms. Like any sensible father seeking shelter, the black and red striped bot continued on towards what he thought was a beacon of hope. The mech ran forward as fast as his pedes could carry him until he was between two of the buildings where he and his charge were sheltered from the wind. 

As it could not have gotten any worse at that point for the struggling refugee and his severely ill daughter, the moment some of the vehicons on patrol caught sight of him, they drew their blasters and charged them up in preparation to fire. 

"HALT! Put your hands where we can see them and state your business or we'll shoot!" The drone on the left growled. 

The mech froze in his tracks, wrapping his arms more tightly around the sparkling to shelter her from the storm. "Help us! Please, she's dying already and we just need shelter! Our ship was overrun....the escape pod exploded, and we just need somewhere to stay for the night until the storm lets up and we'll be on our way." 

The two drones exchanged looks before noticing the sparkling in his arms. 

"This is no place for a child. You should have turned around when you had the chance." the vehicon on the right stated. 

"Please....just for the storm and then we'll be on our way!" the mech begged, his frame heaving in exhaustion as he held the tiny form closer to his chest. 

"Are you aware that you're trespassing in decepticon territory? We have our orders that all non-affiliated parties entering this facility are to be killed on sight, no exceptions. So why should we spare you?" the left vehicon spat, pointing his blaster at the mech's head. 

The mech stared down the barrel of the drone's gun, trying his hardest not to show any sign of fear. "I come in peace. And the tyke, she can't do you or any of you warmongers any harm. I'll do anything, I'll even take on th' badge and join your bloody war if it means keeping her safe. Please, she's all I 'ave left! Surely you wouldn't shoot a defenseless father and an innocent child!" he said. 

The two drones looked at each other, and the one on the right asked, "What do you reckon we do with him?" 

"Toss him in a cell with the rest of the autobots and deserters." The left drone replied, before he lowered his gun and gestured for the neutral mech to come forth. 

The mech complied, stepping up towards the drones like a sheep being led to the slaughter, holding tightly to his tiny daughter in his arms. Within moments, the drones had led him inside and tossed him into a filthy cell with dried energon coating the walls, leaving him and the sparkling there in the darkness to rot. 

After what felt like days but was in reality a few mere hours, the door to the cell was opened and a tall, leggy dark smoky purple and white mech stepped inside, his white hands clasped behind his back. 

The black and red neutral-turned-prisoner looked up from where he sat and stared up at Grimspur through the darkness, still clutching his daughter in his arms. 

Grimspur stared down at the two of them, closing the door behind him as the static field pulsed dully between his antennae. 

"Designation?" Grimspur coldly asked, quite tired after his extensive 'work' that day on Longshot, still not having made any significant progress. 

"It's Haze, sir. And I want to part in your war, but if joining your side'll save her, then please....hear me out." The black and red mech replied, his voice rasping at the back of his vocalizer as he blinked up at Grimspur through the cleansing fluid pouring down his face. 

"I'm listening." Grimspur replied, sitting down on the floor across from him. 

"There was a sickness on our shuttle. Me...me an' a few others, we were runnin' away from your war. They didn't want any part in it, and neither did I. My conjunx died, along with most of th' ship's crew. Those that didn't clambered into escape pods. I was sent first because I was the last living guardian of our sparkling. She's all I have now that....now that Breeze is gone. I know I don't have any options left. And so I'm begging you...let us join your side." Haze said, spilling everything at once and just emotionally collapsing in front of the other mech. 

Grimspur nodded along as Haze told his story, before he answered with, "I'll... do what I can. Your story sounds truthful, but I must insure that you are not an autobot spy. Now, have you heard of mnemosurgery?" 

Haze nodded, his face remaining steady. "I'm not afraid. The worst has already 'appened. Go ahead. You are not going to find me guilty of anything but trying to protect my family." he said.

Haze's words were sincere. It was as if the mech had been so broken already that he just couldn't be broken any more. He was far from home, alone, and desperate. There was something in his eyes that made Grimspur pause for a moment before he pulled out his tentacles and inserted the needles in the back of the bot's neck. 

Within moments, the reading was over and Grimspur knew for certain that the bot was telling the truth. He sternly stared down at him for a second and exhaled loudly through his vents. 

"Why didn't you tell the guards about the virus?" he asked. 

Haze tilted his head. "The what?"

"The sickness that wiped out half your ship. The half that survived are likely destined to die or just carriers of the disease. Why didn't you tell the guards about the virus?" Grimspur replied, clamping the sides of his head in his hands and rubbing his temples in frustration. 

"I told them that Livewire was sick!" Haze exclaimed, cradling the sparkling close to his chest, who in that time had not made a single sound. 

Grimspur vented loudly again and got to his feet. "This makes my job very difficult...." he growled softly. 

"I...I didn't know." Haze rasped, his optics starting to leak again. 

"It...It's fine. You've likely infected every bot you've touched. I will call a quarantine of the facility. Meanwhile, we shall retrieve some energon for you and...Livewire? I take it you have not had a chance to refuel in quite some time." Grimspur calmly replied. 

"What about the sickness? I saw what it did to the people on the ship! We can't just let everyone here die! Oh what have I done?!!!" Haze exclaimed, lowering his head. 

Grimspur sighed and placed a servo on the mech's shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. "As long as I can help it, nobody else is going to die." he replied with a disinterested groan. "You are very fortunate that a 'friend' of mine is equipped to handle this situation."

"Are they a medic?!" Haze hopefully gasped. 

"No." Grimspur stated. "Even better. She MADE this virus. And let us hope to primus she remembered to make an antidote and did not end up replacing the formula with one for glow in the dark paint." he then shook his head in exasperation and muttered, "Skycrest is going to have a field day..."

Haze gasped in horror, hugging Livewire even closer to his frame and shrinking back away from Grimspur. 

Grimspur removed his servo from the bot's shoulder and stood there staring apathetically at him for a moment. "I can assure you that her incompetence does not outweigh her intelligence and problem solving skills. Skycrest is more than equipped to reverse her mistakes. If she lost the antidote, she can easily make a new one by the time anyone starts showing symptoms, but if it is gone then there is a chance you and your little one will not make it." 

Haze swallowed hard and then fell over backwards, having fainted at the realization of what he had just gotten himself into. Grimspur paused and stared at him for a moment before he then unlocked the door, scooped the mech who was still holding his sparkling into his arms, and began casually strolling down the hallway towards the laboratory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haze didn't faint because of Skycrest's supposed incompetence. He fainted because he realized that the bots he just promised to join are the monsters that made the virus that killed half the ship he was on and the love of his life.


	8. Chapter 8

"Ahhh! Grimsyyyy! Just the bot I wanted to see! And what's this? Did you bring me a present?!" Skycrest squealed out the second Grimspur burst through the laboratory door and set Haze down on an unoccupied medical berth. He then shot the enthusiastic femme an annoyed glare as if he could melt her with the gaze of a single optic. 

"Well someone's a little miffed. What is it this time?" Skycrest asked, setting down a petri dish and pulling off her gloves. 

"Sit down. We need to talk." Grimspur snapped. 

Skycrest pouted slightly and sighed before she pulled herself up onto the table and crossed her arms in indignation. "You have that 'I think Skycrest did something monumentally stupid again' look on your face. What is it?" she asked. 

"What? I do not have a look. This is just my face. You cannot assume..." He started, before she cut him off by pretending to throw one of her newly removed gloves at his head. 

"I know you, Grims. Even after the empurata, I still know your looks. And I know that look in particular. So what's up?" Skycrest asked, shifting her weight as her wings twitched. 

Grimspur rolled his optic at the mohawked multi-chrome seeker and crossed his arms over his chest plate. "Run a lab test on the two I brought in and you will find out." he growled. 

At that, Skycrest's face plate lit up in delight. "You're joking....." she said, beaming up at him in disbelief. 

"No. I am not. This is serious, Skycrest. They're infected." Grimspur replied. 

Skycrest clamped her jaw shut for a second before she squealed like a malfunctioning door hinge and hopped down from the table, rushing over and inspecting Haze and his sparkling. 

"Are you capable of saving them?" Grimspur asked. 

Skycrest looked back at him and shook her head, her smile faltering for a second. She then paused and let out a little wheeze and her wings twitched as she said, "......I'll see what I can do. This is from a lot of my earlier research. I don't know if I have the antidote lying around here, but the formula should be in my database. And if not, I can always reverse engineer it." 

Grimspur nodded in understanding and looked over towards Haze who was beginning to stir. "And what about everyone in the facility who has come into contact with it?" he asked. 

Skycrest hopped down from the table and began going through some drawers full of racks of samples and muttering to herself. 

"Skycrest!" Grimspur stated impatiently. 

"What?...Uhm....AHA!" she replied, before she pulled out a small vial and held it up to the light. 

"Hmmm...?" Haze asked, rubbing his head with his free servo as he sat up and looked at the two of them in confusion. 

Skycrest loaded up a syringe with the fluid in the vial she had pulled out and rushed over to Haze's side, checking him and the sparkling over. 

"Well? Are they going to live?" Grimspur repeated. 

Skycrest ignored him and promptly injected Haze with the antidote and turned around back towards Grimspur. "I have good news and bad news."

"Skycrest..." Grimspur warned.

"What is it? Why didn't you give Livewire the antidote? She needs it more than I do!" Haze exclaimed in a bit of a panic. 

"SKYCREST ARE THEY GOING TO LIVE?!" Grimspur hollered, grabbing the petite femme by the shoulders and shaking her. 

"Like I said. Good news and bad news." Skycrest replied, flipping her goggles up so that he could see in her optics that she was being sincere. Grimspur released her, and she brushed imaginary dust from where he had touched her off of her shoulders and let out a long sigh. She then pointed to Haze and said, "HE'S going to live..." 

Grimspur nodded slowly. 

"...But....I'm afraid that the sparkling is....already dead." Skycrest added with a deep sigh. 

Neither of them were prepared for the scream of pain, shock, and dismay that echoed out of Haze's vocalizer next. The two were eventually able to calm the distraught bot down and escort him out of the laboratory, before Skycrest closed the door and locked it, looking up at Grimspur with the most serious face she had pulled in ages. "This has to stop." she stated plainly. She paused for a long while, and then she said, "You'll make me forget this, won't you, Grimspur?"

Grimspur shook his head and took a step back. "No...I-I-I've done that too much." 

"Please, Grims. Just this once. Then I can go back to my work like it used to be and....and I can be happy again." Skycrest said, choking on her own voice. 

"You always say just this once. And then you make me do it again. I've done it too many times to count, and I can only carry so many memories before...Skycrest, you know it will kill me." Grimspur replied. "All the things I've buried....All the things you've asked me to hide. I only used to say yes because I thought it was helping."

"Murmur...You know I can't continue my work if the only image in my processor is one dead sparkling after another. I need to see straight to make progress. You know I hate to admit it, but I care. And work comes first. You've probably seen worse, with all your work on the prisoners that don't talk freely, but me? This isn't me." Skycrest said. 

Grimspur slowly closed his optic before he looked back down at Skycrest. "Don't....Don't use my former name. You know..."

"I know what? That it brings back bad memories?! Well, yeah! Of course I do! Why do you think I never let you make those ones go away when you first started your mnemosurgery business?! Because they were bad, yeah, sure. But they were OUR memories, and I s'pose they made us who we are now. Although....I can't remember half of it. And I'm glad, because I'm happy to have been your first guinea pig. I wouldn't change anything I remember about you for the world." Skycrest said. She reached out and grabbed one of his servos between her own and stared up into his singular optic, smiling weakly. 

"That's because you made me make you forget. You're living in a lie, Skycrest. A fantasy of your own self-indulgent mind, one that...that I helped create. And it's gotten to a point where I have to make you stop...stop this madness and face what's really right here in front of you." he replied. 

"I'd rather live in a lie than leave you alone." Skycrest indignantly huffed. 

"Skycrest, you know I'm a monster." Grimspur growled back. 

She smirked mischievously. "I happen to have a thing for monsters. Have you seen all the wonderful little critters I've made?"

"Stop. That's too far." Grimspur stated. "There is no room for that in this war."

"Alright then. Promise me this." She said, releasing his servo and folding her arms over her chest. 

"There is no place for promises! Do you not understand the gravity of it all?!" Grimspur cried out in exasperation. "You stupid femme! Dooming me to break my word..."

"I just want you to promise me that you won't let another sparkling die.... and if that's too much, then even if...even if my work kills me in the end, will you promise me that you'll make sure that one of my experiments lives? Can you just...can you just do that one thing for me, and then I'll leave you alone?" Skycrest begged. 

"I...." Grimspur froze for a second. 

"I can't go on like this, allowing innocents to die. Sure, the enemy should get what's coming to them, but lately I've wondered if I'm on the wrong side of the war. If you won't let me forget that one death, then I'll...I'll make sure I'm the one who's forgotten." Skycrest said, grabbing a beaker full of that orange fluid from the other day and raising it towards her face. 

"Stop!" Grimspur hissed, grabbing her wrist and staring intensely into her optics, towering over her and raising his tentacles over his head. "I'll do it."

Skycrest smiled up at him, and as the needles slipped into her neck, a blank expression stretched across her face before it was replaced with her usual carefree smile. Grimspur didn't make her forget exactly, as he needed her to remember the virus and its cure. But he had removed all emotional significance around the memory, thus making sure that the femme would not go through with what she had almost attempted. 

"Well... here we are again." Skycrest said, looking at the beaker in her servo in confusion and then setting it back on the table. "What have I forgotten this time?" she asked, her chipper mood having returned to normal. 

"I'm sorry, Skycrest." Grimspur replied, pulling his needles out of her neck. 

"Awww, don't be sorry, Grimsy! Whatever it was, I'm sure it wasn't important." she said. 

Grimspur stepped back in shock, before he stepped towards her again and scooped the small femme up into a tight hug. It was just too much for him, having seen her at her worst and then having to change her mind over what she had just attempted. 

"Oooof! What's this for?" Skycrest asked. 

Grimspur wanted to scream, shout, and tear the world apart with his bare servos over what he had just done. But instead he just held her tighter and then gently set her down. After all, she had to be in her right mind to continue with her experiments. She especially had to be in her right mind to develop the antidote to the virus that had gotten loose in the facility. 

Grimspur turned his back to Skycrest and headed towards the door, before she said something that made him stop in his tracks. 

"You know I love you." She said. 

"You know you are going to forget you said that." He replied, turning around and raising his tentacles again. 

"I know. That just means I get to tell you again." She said. 

Grimspur lowered his tentacles and nodded. He then punched in the code and unlocked the door, stepping outside to find Haze sobbing in the hallway over the loss of his daughter. He was still clinging to the lifeless frame of the dead sparkling.

Skycrest paused in shock and alarm at the sight of the distraught mech, before she sat down beside him and placed a servo on his shoulder. She smiled, not unkindly, but it was a hollow, distant smile that had lost any trace of warmth or empathy. 

"Here, hand that to me and I can...dispose of the body for you." she said, holding out her arms to receive the dead sparkling. Haze whimpered for a second, before he nodded and handed the tiny form to the femme. 

Skycrest then retreated to her laboratory, and Grimspur helped Haze to his feet, leading him as far away from the lab as he possibly could, a sinking feeling gnawing at his spark. He did not know whether he was trying to hide the femme's next actions from the mech or if it was that he just did not have the spark to watch. 

It was probably a little bit of both. 

Skycrest meanwhile took a large sample of the Sparkling's CNA before tossing the rest down the incinerator as if it were just an object with no emotional significance.


	9. Chapter 9

"Is....is everything alright?" Backfire asked as she stepped into the control room of the ship, Scatterblast following close behind on her heels.

"Blast! This stupid ship just won't behave itself!" Dustbuster replied, slamming his fists down on the control panel.

The ship responded to his fists by letting off a loud sound that startled the little mech into jumping down from the controls. Backfire shot him a look of concern. 

"Do you think you can figure out what's wrong with it?" she asked. 

"How should I know? It's not like I ever got a pilot's licence, and flying a ship isn't something that ye learn by experience, ye know. I'm doing the best I can, but it just doesn't want to budge." Dustbuster replied, climbing back up onto the control panel and glaring at all the dials, levers, buttons, and switches. 

"You flew us all the way to Cybertron. And you're saying you can't fly us back?" Backfire said. 

Dustbuster shook his head. "I can fly us back, sure, but I don't know if this alert means we're low on fuel or if there's an enemy approaching."

Another alert flashed onscreen and Dustbuster indignantly put his hands on his hips. "Proximity warning?! Proximity warning me aft! Primus fragged piece of junk..."

"I think that means there's an enemy approaching." Backfire stated. 

"Well of course there's an enemy approaching! Because this orn just keeps getting better! First Longshot, now this....GAAAAAAAUUUUURGH!" Dustbuster moaned, clawing at his face in frustration. 

"Decepticons?!" Backfire snapped, drawing her blasters. 

Dustbuster's battle mask fell over his face plate and he shrugged. "Heck if I know. But whoever they are, I don't think they're friendly..."

Backfire nodded and then looked down at the sparkling clinging to her leg. "Scatterblast, stay behind me, you hear me?" 

The ship suddenly shook as if something had landed on top of it, and just then the lights changed to red as all the alarms went off. 

Scatterblast tilted his head, widening his big blue optics in confusion at the situation, while both Dustbuster and Backfire let out horrified gasps. 

"What's that mean?!" Scatterblast and Backfire exclaimed in unison. 

"Either we hit something....or we're being boarded..." Dustbuster replied from under his battle mask. 

"Why would the decepticons be boarding us?!" Backfire asked. 

A few doors down, there was a loud noise as a hunk of metal that had just been cut by a laser thudded to the floor. Dustbuster drew his own blasters and hopped down from the control panel, rushing to Backfire's side as the two of them turned to face the intruders. 

The alarms suddenly shut off on their own, and for a long moment it was eerily silent. 

"Scatterblast, whatever happens, stay behind me." Backfire whispered to the sparkling at her heels. Scatterblast nodded in acknowledgment of her orders. 

And then, from just a few paces away, a booming voice proclaimed, "DESERTERS! PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR! YOU ARE UNDER ARREST ACCORDING TO ARTICLE 5 SECTION 3 PARAGRAPH C SUBSECTION 12 AND SECTION 6 PARAGRAPH 11 OF THE AUTOBOT CODE! ANYTHING YOU SAY CAN AND WILL BE USED AGAINST YOU!"

"Scrap." Backfire dismally stated as she stowed her blasters away and did as the orders commanded, putting her hands in the air. 

Dustbuster did the same, putting away his blasters and holding his hands up. 

Footsteps thundered down the hall, carrying with them a stern faced blue, red, and silver bot. His optics glared down relentlessly at them as he hefted himself into the room and he stood with a rigid, militant stature. The mech's face was held in a tight scowl, his helm held high and his servos clenched at his sides in tight fists. Not far behind the militant mech was a femme with crystal white plating and slight lavender accents who quickly made her way next to her superior and stood at attention, eyeing Dustbuster and Backfire with contempt. 

"Do you two care to explain yourselves?" the femme asked with a bit of a disgusted sneer plastered to her faceplate. 

"Ultra Magnus!....Sir... I mean ye no disrespect..." Dustbuster squeaked, eyeing Backfire nervously.

The blue, red, and silver mech scowl tightened in disapproval. It was almost as if he was considering punting the smaller bot across the room for his insubordination. The femme on his right shifted her weight for a second, causing Ultra Magnus' optic to twitch. She in turn straightened out her posture with a slight roll of her optics and a disinterested sigh through her vents. 

"Sir, if I may, I do believe we have more pressing matters to attend to. In short, we shouldn't waste our time on these hooligans so let's get this over with, shall we?" The white plated femme asked, the upper corner of her lip plating twitching in obvious annoyance. 

"Noted." Ultra Magnus stated, before looking back at the two 'hooligans' in question. "The charges are as follows. Hijacking an autobot spacecraft, which by the way, is autobot military property. In addition to that, your charges are as follows; disengaging from the ranks and suspected treason and or consorting with the enemy. I doubt anything you have to say for yourselves will lessen the charges, however it is required by law that I allow you to explain yourselves as sergeant Snowflair has previously stated." 

Backfire and Dustbuster turned their heads and looked at each other, before looking back at Ultra Magnus and his companion who was in turn examining the tips of her digits with a disinterested glare. 

"We....ah...had an extremely valid reason, sir." Backfire stated sheepishly, looking up at the stern faced mech who towered over her by several feet. She then stepped to the side, revealing the tiny white plated sparkling who was standing behind her legs. Scatterblast looked up at Ultra Magnus and beamed up at the mech. 

At that, Ultra Magnus' brow furrowed in surprise and slight confusion, while the femme who was apparently called Snowflair gasped in surprise and alarm. 

"You...brought a sparkling on board this ship? Am I to presume that I should add 'kidnapping' to your already extensive list of charges?" Ultra Magnus growled.

"What?! No! No! Ye' don't understand!" Dustbuster called out as he frantically waved his arms in the air. 

"What do I not understand here about you two breaking the law?" Ultra Magnus coldly asked, unamused by Dustbuster's frantic waving.

"We were going to bring it back, ye see! We just had to borrow it for a wee bit to retrieve the littl'un. We didn't mean anyone any harm by it, ye hear. It's just that, the littl'un's only living relative, his brother Longshot was ah...taken awey by decepticons, leaving him alone on an abandoned part of Cybertron. We only took the ship so we could make sure he was safe while th' others mounted a rescue effort for those that were captured." Dustbuster said. 

Backfire nodded along with Dustbuster's explanation. When the small grey mech had finished talking, Scatterblast ran up to Ultra Magnus. The sparkling was hardly as tall as the massive mech's foot. Once Scatterblast had reached Ultra Magnus, he put his servos on the side of the bot's leg, looking up, up, up into Ultra Magnus' optics with the widest little grin on his face as if he could barely contain himself as he let out a little cry of "Guess what!" 

Ultra Magnus shifted his gaze to the tiny bot at his heels and let out an exasperated sigh before asking, "What?"

"Dusty doesn't even gots a piwot's licence!" Scatterblast chirped. 

Ultra Magnus' steely gaze whipped towards Dustbuster whose knees were practically shaking at that point. 

"Is that true?" Ultra Magnus growled.

"Erm.....yes sir." Backfire and Dustbuster stated in unison. 

"Fan-fragging-tastic." Snowflair apathetically stated. Ultra Magnus shot her a look and the white femme immediately stood up straight at attention. 

"Look, Ultra Magnus, Sir, if I may. Don't you have bots back home who you'd willingly risk everything for no matter the cost, even if it meant breaking the law, sir?" Backfire asked. 

Ultra Magnus' expression softened ever so slightly, but his posture remained rigid and unchanging. 

"Sir, Longshot, my conjunx, risked life and limb out there for me. He made me promise that if anything happened to him that we'd look after Scatterblast. The kid could have died if we didn't intervene. I beg of you, please...please don't make me break my promise!" Backfire continued. 

"Why was the sparkling alone on Cybertron instead of with his brother?" Ultra Magnus asked skeptically. 

"Longshot believed that the battlefield was no place for a child, and he had no other way to insure his safety." Backfire replied. 

"Then why are you bringing said child to the aforementioned battlefield?" Ultra Magnus said. 

Backfire looked over at Scatterblast and then back at Ultra Magnus. "It was our only option. We don't know when they'll be able to break Longshot free, and without him to stop in and drop off energon and supplies, it was more dangerous than him being on the battlefield. And besides, he's been living by himself for a long time. He can take care of himself at the ship while the rest of us are at the front lines. And that way he isn't alone all the time." 

"Bwuvy's gonna be okay, wight?" Scatterblast added, looking up at Snowflair and Ultra Magnus. 

At that, Snowflair's expression softened quite a bit, and she looked up expectantly at Ultra Magnus in anticipation of his verdict. 

"And who is going to take care of the sparkling in the inevitable event of your demise?" Ultra Magnus sternly questioned. 

Dustbuster and Backfire looked at each other for a second. Backfire then looked up and solemnly stated, "I...I don't know sir. I really hope it doesn't come to that."

"And what if we are unable to mount a successful rescue mission? Invading decepticon territory with how outflanked we are as it is is practically suicide. And you are suggesting that bots who have hardly met Longshot, let alone know what he looks like risk their lives and possibly die in order to secure his retrieval? What makes one soldier matter over the rest?" Ultra Magnus replied. 

"If no one will do it, then I'll go. I'll lead the rescue mission, even if I'm the only one." Backfire stated, stomping her foot down. "Unlike other bots, I care about Longshot. And if anything happens to him then my life won't be worth living. I'd gladly sacrifice myself in order to bring him home."

"I as well." Dustbuster added. 

"Sir, if I may, I'd like to accompany them on their rescue mission." Snowflair said. 

Ultra Magnus looked down at the white femme and raised an optic ridge. "Who said there was even going to be a rescue mission after what they have done?" 

"Sir, we've lost too many soldiers. Too many good soldiers. Too many good people. Taking these two into custody isn't going to do anything to help the war effort. I think it's better to send them in to rescue their friend than to just let them rot in a cell while there are people dying on the front lines. I know of a couple squadrons that are headed towards decepticon territory, and there's a chance that one of the facilities they're planning to hit might be harboring the prisoners they're looking for. We can worry about their sentences after the war when everyone is safe. But for now, why not make use of their willingness to assist in combat?" Snowflair said. 

Ultra Magnus nodded slowly and reluctantly at her statement, running the possibilities through his processor. 

"Very well." Ultra Magnus sighed. "I suppose I will consider your suggestion. I will detain them in my ship for further questioning. Meanwhile, you will utilize your pilot's licence and return this ship to its proper squadron. Understood?"

"Yes sir." The white femme replied, saluting Ultra Magnus, while Backfire and Dustbuster both vented in relief.


	10. Chapter 10

"Any progress on the antivirus?" Grimspur cooed, looming over Skycrest's shoulder as she worked. 

The multi-chrome femme nodded enthusiastically and replied with, "I was able to isolate the formula from what was left after administering it to that Haze fellow and now there should be enough to dose anyone who starts showing symptoms. Until then, it's business as usual." 

"And the genetic experiments?" 

Skycrest lowered her head slightly and went back to her work as if she hadn't heard his comment. 

"Skycrest, answer me. What of the genetic experiments?" He repeated. 

"We're...attempting to make progress for the next batch. I was able to acquire a small genetic sample, but it's barely enough for one viable protoform. Not that we can really expect much of anything to survive these days." She replied with a heavy sigh through her vents. 

Grimspur slowly blinked his singular optic and then turned to leave. "Understood." he said, just as the door to the laboratory burst open and a pair of vehicons hauling something heavy and bundled in chains lumbered into the room. 

"Pity. I thought I had that locked." Skycrest grumbled, pouting a bit as the drones lowered their burden onto one of the medical berths situated in the corner of the laboratory. Skycrest walked over to examine what the vehicons had deposited onto the berth, only for her face plate to light up with intrigue. "For me? Oh, you really shouldn't have. Although, I really think that by now one of you should have told Shockwave and the higher ups that I absolutely hate getting everyone's leftovers. But, I shall make use of her no doubt."

"Her...?" Grimspur asked, turning to examine the bundle of chains before he realized what Skycrest meant. "Oh..." he stepped back a bit, recognizing the prisoner from the E-wing. In the lighting of the laboratory, it was a little bit easier to decipher her features compared to the lighting in the cell, and he came to notice that under all the dust and scuff marks that the chained femme's plating had probably been some shade of blue before it had gone primus knows how long without proper upkeep and polish. 

"Oh? Oh what, Grimsy? Don't stare. That's quite rude of you. And besides, I thought you only had an eye for me." Skycrest commented. 

Grimspur continued staring in the direction of the chained femme, but after Skycrest waved her servo in front of his optic a few times it became apparent that he was staring off into space as if fixed on a distant memory running on loop through his processor. Skycrest rolled her optics at him and then turned back towards the vehicons who had brought in the prisoner and put her hands on her hips. 

"So, what's this all for then?" Skycrest asked. 

The vehicon on the left of the chained femme replied with, "We are not sure what's wrong with this one, however we suspect this one's infected."

"Ah, so you want me to administer the cure then?" Skycrest replied. 

"Affirmative." The vehicon said.

"And how do you suppose I am to get to her fuel lines under all those chains, hm?" Skycrest asked. "I can't administer the antivirus with her wrapped up that tightly, now can I?"

Grimspur swiveled his head in Skycrest's direction and blinked for a moment. The vehicons looked back and forth between each other before nodding hesitantly. Grimspur narrowed his optic at the chained prisoner, seeing no sign of movement. The two vehicons carefully began fiddling with the keys to the locks, to a point where only the femme's arms and legs were bound. The femme still remained unresponsive. 

As soon as the drones had finished untangling and unlocking most of the chains that bound the femme, Skycrest pulled out a syringe and quite forcefully jabbed the thing into a fuel line in the femme's left arm, drawing a sample of her energon. Skycrest gasped slightly at the unusual color of the stuff that had come out of the listless femme's arm. She stood there staring for a moment at the prisoner, who even laying down on the medical berth appeared to be at least twice her height. The vehicons slipped out into the hallway, and Skycrest quickly locked the door behind them before quickly returning to the sample she had taken.

Grimspur watched with very little movement or interference, standing there watching as if in a trance. After Skycrest took the sample, she put a drop of it under a nearby microscope and began talking to herself.

"Hmmmmm...Aha! Fascinating! Peculiar...most peculiar...well that's new..." the multi-chrome femme hummed to herself as she continued staring through the lens. 

Grimspur shook himself out of his trance and stepped closer to Skycrest. "What is it?" he suddenly asked, breaking the silence after she had stared at the sample for a good long while. 

Skycrest's wings twitched in surprise, and then she spun around. She moved out of the way and stepped around and behind Grimspur, shoving him towards the microscope with an exclamation of "See for yourself!" 

Grimspur begrudgingly complied and pressed his singular optic up to the microscope's eyepiece and adjusted his vision to focus. He let out a loud exclamation of "Primus!" before pulling his optic away from the sample and then turning to stare at Skycrest. 

"I know, right!" Skycrest said, beaming up at him. 

"Do you know what this means?!" Grimspur growled in a low monotone.

"Why of course!" Skycrest squealed in excitement. 

Grimspur made a low, displeased rumbling noise in his engine. "I do not think you and I have reached the same conclusion...." he said slowly. 

"This solves everything! Grims, did you see what I saw?! This...THAT! That right there might very well be the answer to what I've been looking for! All this time, and it was right under our enstril's! Ooooooh! I could just about kiss you right now! I could kiss her! I could kiss the microscope! I could kiss every last drone in this facility! Just wait till' we tell Megatron that this lab is finally going to succeed in producing what was requested of us, if a bit behind schedule." Skycrest ecstatically screeched out, before planting a solid peck on the poor listless prisoner's forehead and then proceeding to reach up to try and grab Grimspur's face. The prisoner moaned slightly in protest but was unable to make much of an effort to stop her.

Grimspur grabbed Skycrest by the wrist, glaring down at her with a blazing ferocity beaming down from his singular eye. "Don't." 

"Ohhh, but Grimsy! Don't you want a kiss?" She pleaded, pursing her lip plating a bit as if to tease him. 

"Don't you remember what Megatron will do once you perfect your experiments?!" He hissed back. 

"No. I haven't the foggiest of what you mean. But look! SCIENCE! We can finally make a name for ourselves in furthering the cause! I'll be known for something more than ickle little germs, and we'll wipe out those nasty autobots and have us our own little corner of space." Skycrest exclaimed. 

"That's right....you don't remember..." Grimspur groaned, clutching the sides of his head. 

"Grimsy, if I succeed with this, then there'll finally be an end to the war. Like we always wanted!" Skycrest said. "We'll have little genetically perfected sparklings running around, and it'll be like our own little family! Come on!"

"No. That is not how it works." Grimspur replied. 

"Oh, Pish posh! Go ahead and poo-poo my plans. But You are not gonna' stop me from finishing my magnum opus, my greatest work yet!" Skycrest said, before dashing back to the microscope. 

Grimspur stared down at his servos and shook his helm. "What have I done..." he muttered softly under his breath, memories of Skycrest rushing through his processor faster than he could keep track. He could hardly remember which ones she was aware of and which ones she had asked him to make her forget any more. 

"You've done something brilliant, Grim. Bringing us off the streets, snagging yourself a pair of hands, getting me a job here. It's all been wonderful, and I wouldn't change a single thing!" Skycrest said, before twirling around in a circle and tackling him around the waist, gazing dreamily up at him. 

"It's all been wonderful because it's all been a lie! You made me rewrite everything so that you wouldn't feel pain, and every time you see or hear or do something that does not sit right with you, you come running back to me for an easy fix. It's the same cycle we go through, every single time. No matter how many things I erase, you always find new ways to repeat the same old patterns. And I...I hate it. I hate this centrifuge of life we keep spinning in, always getting the same dismal results. You're merely a fraction of who you really are, of WHAT you really are, but if I let you see that, it would kill you or you'd probably kill yourself. And after I'm done with this primus forsaken outburst, I'll have to erase it from your mind like I always do because you just can't handle the truth of what's right in front of you!" Grimspur ranted, the static charge between his antennae pulsing more rapidly than ever before as he raised his voice and stomped towards the femme, bearing down on her like a phantom from a nightmare while the petite little femme leaned backwards and cowered slightly as he tore her away from his waist. 

Skycrest shuddered for a moment as he loomed over her, her optics wide with fear and disappointment. "I..I-I thought you'd be happy for me!" she whimpered. 

"You're happy enough for yourself. And besides, you know that is not possible with what you've unwittingly burdened me with. I don't know what hurts more, seeing you suffer at the hands of what you've done or watching you flit about in utter oblivion!" He roared, stepping closer and backhanding Skycrest across the face. The blow sent the femme sprawling on the floor. 

Skycrest lifted a servo to her cheek, tears forming in her optics as she wiped off the energon from where he had smacked her and stared at it with shock and alarm. The Grimspur she knew would never do such a thing, and she paused to consider his words. Was her life really just a lie, a fantasy she had unknowingly forced him into constructing for her because she was too weak to handle the truth?

Grimspur stood over her, fuming for a second before he looked down at his servos and at Skycrest, mortified at what he had just done. 

"Grimspur...." Skycrest started, reaching out a servo towards him, as if trying to comfort him even in her state of shock and pain and humiliation at his hands. "I...I'm sorry. I didn't know..."

"Of course you didn't know. Because that burden is mine and mine alone to bear. I shouldn't have bothered you with such trivial nonsense." He replied with a slight snort. 

"No, really, if it upsets you then...then I'm okay with seeing my memories again. All of them. Unaltered, as they were. The real things. Please, I just want to understand..." She said, scrambling to her feet and staring up at him with her haunting red optics, cleansing fluid streaming down her face plate. 

"No. You....have enough to deal with as it is. And besides..." He gestured towards the prisoner laying prone on the medical berth. "You have a patient to attend to. I'll fix your memories in just a moment and things will go back to the way they were and you'll be happy again. I like it when you're happy."

Skycrest whimpered slightly as he raised his tentacles over his head and took a step closer, plunging the needles into the side of her neck while simultaneously scooping her up into his arms. For a moment, Skycrest writhed in his grasp and then she was still as her memories of their conflict faded into the darkest recesses of her processor. He left the memories of her discovery alone, however. He had to. It was the only way to prove that he was still loyal to the decepticon cause. Once he was done altering the memory exactly as he liked it, he set the femme down on her feet and let out a long, weary sigh through his vents. 

"Is...is something wrong?" Skycrest asked him as he set her down. "You're making that face again."

"This is my face, Skycrest." He replied, gesturing to his singular expressionless optic. 

"Ah... well... It's best I work on utilizing my discovery." She said, before looking gratefully towards the prisoner on the berth, who had barely stirred in the time of their argument. 

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Grimspur asked. 

"Ah! Yes! Of course! My dear new friend with the stunning genetics, how rude of me it was to never ask your name! That is, if you have one....not to pry or anything." Skycrest said. 

The femme on the berth tilted her head in Skycrest's direction, eyeing her with a piercing and almost predatory gaze. Grimspur instinctively placed a protective servo on Skycrest's shoulder in a nonverbal warning to the femme, as if to say, 'you harm her and I will assure you a slow and agonizing death'. 

It was so unusual, the prisoner just lying there at their mercy and yet her face showing otherwise, as if they were ensnared in her trap instead of the other way around. The femme just smiled, a cold, calculating, eerie, lifeless smile, her sharpened golden digits twitching slightly in her hand restraints. Grimspur's former pity towards the femme was replaced with suspicion, while Skycrest smiled innocently back and waved, as if she had no idea how violating it was to yank a sample of energon out of someone's arm without asking their name. 

"Designation?" Grimspur hissed slowly. 

The femme clenched her jaw for a second, before she answered back a single word in a chilling tone that could rattle the dead, "Cerulean."


	11. Chapter 11

"Stand perfectly still. Focus on your surroundings. Take it all in. Any sight, sound, smell, feeling, or even taste in an instant could become your greatest adversary. You must stand strong and stay alert. Focus your optics straight ahead, but do not for a single nanoklik think to miscount your peripheral vision. Feel the vibrations in the ground to test for any sign of disturbance. In an instant, the world can turn on you and dispose of you in a flash. You must be cunning and clever, never failing to think outside the common realms of understanding. Now, widen your stance and focus on a singular point in the distance. Focus your auditory receptors until you can hear your internal mechanisms and sense the very energon pulsing through your fuel lines. Now when I say go, I want you to charge at the target and neutralize the threat. Ready....set...go!" Backfire said, crossing her arms over her chest as the little sparkling toddled at full speed towards a very unsuspecting Dustbuster.

The grey bot turned his head, just in time to be tackled by the little bot around the waist. Dustbuster let out a cry of surprise and alarm, while Backfire shook her head in disapproval. 

"No, no, no. What was that?! Primus! I told you to attack him, not give him a hug. Kid, if you want to survive you have to be ruthless and show no mercy. You have to beat the decepticons at their own game." The femme growled in frustration. 

Dustbuster regained his bearings and looked up at the femme and narrowed his optics. "You're being too hard on the kid, lass. And besides, he nearly toppled me over, he did. Why not cut him some slack? He's barely five solar cycles!"

"Exactly. That's five solar cycles of training he's missed out on because he's been hiding out on Cybertron this whole time. Most of the other sparklings born during the war already have guns in their servos and know how to throw a punch. But look at him! He's soft as a fleshling and could hardly hurt a thing!"the femme shot back with a cold, unyielding scowl. 

"He's a bright little spark. I'm sure that in time he'll learn. But for now, ye should be patient with him. Before the war, sparklings were nurtured and coddled, not thrown into the ranks and tossed up at the front lines to die!" Dustbuster retorted, while Scatterblast attempted to scramble up the minibot's back as if the grey mech was simply a piece of playground equipment. 

Backfire clenched her servos into fists and shook her helm indignantly. "We can't raise him like he wasn't born during the war because that'll just get him killed like his brother!"

At that, the already dull coloring in Dustbuster's plating went pale and he gaped at her in alarm. "That was uncalled for and ye' know it! Longshot isn't dead! He isn't dead yet! An' I won't believe he's dead until I see the body! So ye can shut yer' yap about it until further notice. MEANWHILE, I and going to take the sparkling that I helped sire and go somewhere else where he can't be affected by yer' negativity!" 

"Wait, WHAT?!!!!" Backfire exclaimed in surprise and a bit of confusion. 

"You heard me! He's half mine! Longshot didn't tell ye' everything, ye' know! I was his BEST FRIEND loooooong before he ever laid optics on YOU!" Dustbuster ranted, scooping Scatterblast off of his back and cradling the little one in his arms. 

Backfire screwed her face into a confused and slightly appalled expression while the short grey mech turned his back to her and stomped out of the room with Scatterblast in his arms. Backfire pondered for a long moment what Dustbuster had meant by saying that Scatterblast was half his, her processor mulling over a whole number of inaccurate but disturbing conclusions as to what he meant. 

*****

Ashes fell through the sky as the two lone bots who had been separated from their battalion trekked through miles of shrapnel and dust. What had once been a vibrant community centering around a fertile hot spot was now no more than a barren wasteland. The taller of the two gasped at seeing the desolate landscape, while the other mech, a bot much shorter and stockier than his companion, tilted his helm and looked up in concern. 

"What's wrong?" the minibot asked, placing his servo against the warm blue plating of the taller mech's leg. 

"I...I know where we are." The taller bot replied, hanging his helm in dismay. "This is where I was born..." 

"'tis a shame then. I imagined you'd been born of forged somewhere far more beautiful than this." the small one replied.

"It was...beautiful once. Those shattered buildings? They were full of light and life and smiling, happy faces. And look over there, see the clearing that all the buildings seem to center around? That's-or at least it used to be one of the brightest hot spots this side of anywhere. The town and all its customs used to center around the celebration and nurturing of new life, but now...it's just abandoned. Everyone must have left or....or gotten killed when the war came through."

"Longshot....?" the smaller one asked, as the taller green, ivory, and blue bot lifted his visor and wiped his optics. 

"I'm...I'm fine, Dusty." Longshot said, turning his back to the smaller bot and sitting down, pulling his knees to his chest plate. "I-I just need time to...to process...."

"To think that the decepticons desecrated such sacred ground...." the smaller one said, sitting down next to his companion. 

Longshot reached out a servo and gently patted the short bot on the head, and for once, the smaller bot didn't complain or even attempt to swat him away but in turn sighed and begrudgingly let it happen. 

"And what of the unborn sparks? Ye said this was a hot spot. So....do ye think the 'cons went and destroyed them or stole them for their own use?" Dustbuster asked, still trying to ignore the hand that was now resting on his head. 

"I don't know. I was one of the last to be born here in quite some time. There wouldn't have been much for the 'cons to take, since a lot of the leftover sparks were probably cold by the time they most likely got here. Still, we should probably keep moving. Maybe there's some spare energon in one of the old shops if we're lucky." Longshot replied, lifting his hand off of Dustbuster's head and slowly getting to his feet. 

"But ye' just said ye needed to process!..."

Longshot slammed his clear visor back down over his optics and turned around, stepping closer to the center of the former city. "The dead can mourn the dead. There's no sense in just sitting here in the open. We should head for cover, and once we can get our commlinks back up, then we can see about lying around." he said coldly. 

"Longshot....." Dustbuster called out, standing up and reaching a servo towards the taller bot. 

"I'm...I'm fine. Come on. We should cover more ground before the cons sniff us out."

"Longshot, you're not fine. I could see it in yer optics and I hear it in yer' voice. I know you're in pain, and I'm hurtin' too, I am. And for the most part, I think we're safe here. If the cons destroyed this place then I don't think they're coming back. You're just eager to leave because...because..." Dustbuster said, his voice trailing off when the taller mech spun around and shot him an angry glare, cleansing fluid streaming down his face. 

"Okay! You got me! I'm not fine! I haven't been fine in a long time, and so what! Life is slag, but I've done my best with it, and if this is all I get, then yeah, I'm gonna' be mad. You hear that, universe?! SCREW YOU! Ya' hear that?! Yeah, I'm mad! I'm blazing mad and I've got nothing to do with myself, so what of it! Maybe you don't know me as well as you think you do, Dustbuster!" Longshot ranted, shaking his fist at the sky. 

"Longshot...I...." Dustbuster replied, startled at his friend's sudden outburst. 

"Don't you 'Longshot' me! I've had enough of it! Longshot this, Longshot that! It's almost as if you think I'm primus himself simply because I pulled you out of that gutter before the scraplets got ya'! Well, it's time to face the facts, Dusty, because I'm no god. I'm not your sun, moon, and stars. I'm just a broken, bleeding mech. And I'm lost. I got us lost. We're so hopelessly lost that we wandered all the way back to my very first home! Why can't you see me as I am?!" Longshot continued, waving his hands about in an irate fit of emotion. 

"I'm....I'm truly sorry...." Dustbuster said, hanging his helm in shame as he found that his own optics were beginning to leak. 

"No. You're not sorry. There's..." Longshot started, before he dropped to his knees and pulled the smaller mech into a warm, vice-like embrace. "There's nothing to be sorry about. I'm the one who should be sorry, because I got us both into this whole mess and you've put up with me for this long. Sometimes I just....I just need to cry. Life isn't perfect, but at least we have each other, ya' know?" 

Dustbuster hugged him back, wrapping his stubby arms around Longshot's neck and patting him on the back. "Yeah...you're a handful, ye are." he said with a smile. "But I'm never gonna' let you go, because I love ye, ye hear?"

Longshot loosened his grip on the smaller mech and leaned back, looking him in the optics. "Yeah? And I...I love ya too, Dusty." he said, the words feeling a bit forced as they came out of his vocalizer. 

Dustbuster quickly pulled his arms away from Longshot's neck and his face plate flushed blue in embarrassment. "Feelings are feelings. Ye don't 'ave to reciprocate em..."he said.

"Dusty....You're my best friend. And you'll never stop being my best friend. But I can't....I can't..." Longshot choked up slightly as he released his grip on the smaller bot and instead wrapped his arms around himself in a subconscious gesture of closing himself off from the smaller mech. 

"It isn't my place to get in the way of love. I know ye' love her. And...I'm not gonna' stop ye." Dustbuster said with a pained sigh. 

"Thanks for understanding, buddy." Longshot said, cracking a grin and then pulling Dustbuster into a headlock and giving him a very fierce noogie. 

"Ayyy Ayyy! Get off, ya' dunce!" Dustbuster in turn exclaimed. Longshot chuckled and released him, and then the two of them got to their feet. 

The two mechs then started walking forwards with Dustbuster in the lead, but it wasn't long before something caused the small grey minibot to stop in his tracks and point at something in the distance. 

"Wha...? Dusty, what's the holdup?" Longshot asked, stopping behind the minibot. 

"Longshot, Look! There in the distance there's a glimmer of light I tell ye', not too far that-a-ways!" Dustbuster replied excitedly. 

Longshot shrugged and narrowed his optics, squinting in the direction that his companion was pointing. There was indeed a glimmer of light like he said just sitting there on the ground. Longhsot leaped over the minibot's head and ran towards it, his sparkrate rising in his chest with a giddy cry of "I don't believe it! It can't be!"

"Whoa, watch where ye put your legs there! Ye almost knocked me over, ye did!" Dustbuster exclaimed, scrambling along to catch up. 

"Aw, don't worry 'bout it! But LOOK! It can't be! It just can't be!" Longshot replied in excitement, running up to the flicker of light which turned out to be a glowing orb of crackling blue and white energy just sitting on the ground. 

"It looks like it CAN be, but what's a thing like THAT doing here?!" Dustbuster replied. 

"Dusty, do you know what this is? It's...I can hardly believe my optics! It's a newly formed spark! Maybe the hot spot didn't go cold after all! I can't believe it!" Longshot exclaimed, picking Ductbuster up and spinning him around before tossing him up in the air with glee. He then caught Dustbuster and gently set him on his feet on the ground, and the small bot in turn put his servos on his hips and twisted his face into a scowl. 

"Never do that again." Dustbuster grumbled indignantly, leaning over and tapping the side of his head to clear the dizziness. 

"Sorry 'bout that. I got a bit carried away! But look! This...this right here..." Longshot said, dramatically pointing at the pulsing, raw, unformed spark in the ground, "This proves that there's still a chance for life even in the ashes of the war!"

"Whoa now! Don't ye go on hopin' for new life just yet. There isn't a blacksmith to assist in its emergence for miles and by the time someone could get to it, it'll probably have faded out and died. See there? The light is already fading. I don't think....I don't think it has much of a chance." Dustbuster said. 

Longshot narrowed his optics and tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Well then, why don't WE act as the blacksmiths?!" he exclaimed.


	12. Chapter 12

"Bloody Primus, Longshot, 'ave ye gone stark raving mad?!" Dustbuster exclaimed, staring up at the look on his friend's face with shock and alarm. "There's no wey we can assist the spark in emerging, and even if we could, it wouldn't be worth it! It's best to let the poor thing die rather than let it be born during the war!"

Longshot frowned at his companion, before looking at the unformed spark just lying there on the ground. "Are you kidding?! That there is a sign that maybe it was worth getting separated from the squadron. Maybe it was fate or Primus himself that led us to this very moment in time and space. We're witnessing a miracle here, and it's the miracle of life! We can't just sit by and watch it fade into nothing!"

"But we don't have any experience with that sort of thing, and besides, it's likely to just get swept awey into a training camp never to be seen again, and before we know, it'll be shot and killed at the front lines. This world, our world, is not equipped for handling new life. Do you see those stars up there? They're all frowning down on us, and it's best to let it pass awey into the dark, best not to interfere. It's a dangerous thing, toying with nature like that. And what if we try and fail? Then we'll have the guilt on us for just killing it faster. Leave it be, Longshot. You can't save everyone." Dustbuster ranted. 

As if it was aware of their conversation, the pulsing spark began to fade slightly. 

"I might not be able to save everyone, but I'm sure as scrap gonna' try! I grew up here back before this place was torn to bits. I've seen multiple assisted births, and I wouldn't be around if my own emergence from this very place been assisted by dedicated and capable hands. How hard can it be?!" Longshot shot back. 

"The bots who brought you out likely spent hundreds of stellar cycles perfecting their craft. You've never done this before! Longshot, this is madness! Will you please listen to reason?!!!" 

"The only reason I'll listen to is that I can't just let it die. Prime himself says that 'all sentient beings deserve a chance at life', and that's what I'm doing. I'm giving this spark, this future cybertronian, this little brother or sister a chance." Longshot stubbornly replied, stepping closer to the spark and kneeling in order to get a better look at it. It was barely the size of his fists, and he could hardly believe that that tiny, pulsing orb of light contained all the information necessary to make a fully formed, self aware, newborn cybertronian. It was even harder for him to believe that new life still existed even in the midst of the carnage and dissonance of the war. Longshot stooped down and carefully reached towards the spark, jabbing his fingers into the metal of the ground surrounding it. 

"What in all the blue blazes do ye' think you're doing?!" Dustbuster exclaimed in alarm as Longshot attempted to pry the spark loose from the ground that it was embedded in. 

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm assisting in its birth!" Longshot replied, trying to carefully grasp the spark in his servos without damaging the fragile little thing. "Come on, little guy! I know you wanna stay there, but you can't be born if you're stuck forever." he continued, giving it a good tug and wrenching the orb free from the ground. The second it was freed, the orb's light began to dim at a much more rapid pace, and Longshot gasped in alarm, nearly dropping it back on the ground. 

"Ye done killed it! I'd say I told ye so, but you're too thick in the head to hear it. Ye done fragged up, ye did!" Dustbuster growled disapprovingly. 

Longshot whimpered slightly for a moment, before the pulsing spark within his hands began turning from an orb of light into a more silvery, almost fluid like substance in his hands. 

"N-no....look! It's...I can't believe it! It's actually forming into sentio metallico!" Longshot exclaimed in relief and triumph as the silvery goo started oozing through his fingers. With a quick motion, he tossed it up in the air and then passed it back and forth between his hands, before it had a chance to drip onto the ground. "Oh no you don't! You're gonna' live, you hear me?! You're gonna find your form and you're gonna' live!" 

Dustbuster shook his head slightly as he watched his best friend toss the liquid metallic substance back and forth between his hands as if it was simply putty. "I don't think it can understand ye'....and is that really how you're supposed to treat a protoform?!" 

"Oh, sure, like you could do it better. I'm just making sure that it actually starts to find its shape." Longshot retorted. 

"That hardly looks like it's finding its shape. It's just a weird lumpy ball. I don't think that that's how you're supposed to..."

"Scrap! I think it's getting too cold!" Longshot suddenly yelled, stopping what he was doing and holding the lump of silvery goo near his chest and opening up his own spark chamber in and attempt to warm it up. 

"Ye never listen, do ye?" Dustbuster grumbled. 

"Hurry up and get me something to heat it up with, will ya?!" Longshot said, ignoring the mini bot's skepticism. 

Dustbuster made an incoherent grunting noise and sighed loudly through his vents. "How would I know how to make it warm when we're stranded in the middle of a scrapped up city with no usable supplies?!!!" 

"I....I don't know. But whatever you do, hurry. Oh...wait a second! I know! Fire is warm! We can...We can use the heat from our blasters!" Longshot said, closing his spark chamber while still holding the silvery lump close to his chest plating. He then held the sentio metallico in one hand and transformed the other hand into his blaster, aiming the barrel directly at it. That worked for a few minutes, before his blaster overloaded and he had to quickly move the protoform out of the way and discharge his weapon. 

"....................." Dustbuster was speechless. He was quite unsure of whether or not he was witnessing idiocy or a stroke of pure genius. He just stood there, watching his best friend whom he had known for several vorns take turns heating the protoform with his blaster and tossing it back and forth between his hands to help it develop its true shape. At that point, it was very hard to tell if the thing was still alive or if Longshot was tossing around a lump of dead material, but the Emerald, cobalt, and ivory mech seemed to cling to so much hope that Dustbuster too found himself secretly rooting for its survival. 

After long hours of tirelessly switching back and forth between heating it with his blasters and tossing it back and forth, as if by some miracle, the lump of silvery substance began taking on a shape of its own. First, it was oddly spherical in nature, and then it developed facets almost like a crystal, as if encouraged by Longshot's efforts. Dustbuster had since fallen into recharge and was not awake to see the first signs of it taking shape on its own. Longshot had to prod the sleeping mini bot with his foot seeing as his hands were occupied. 

"Wha...?" Dustbuster groggily asked, as Longshot shoved the lump of sentio metallico into his face. 

"Look! It's starting to take its own shape!" Longshot exclaimed, barely able to contain his excitement and nearly dropping the protoform into Dustbuster's lap. 

"Ye' haven't killed it yet, huh?" Dustbuster replied, rubbing his optics and sitting up. 

"Nope. Look! It's doing that all on its own!" Longshot replied ecstatically, pointing at the protoform. 

Dustbuster blinked and looked at the protoform for a moment before his optics widened in surprise. "Well I'll be a half baked tailpipe! It's really still alive.."

"Keep your negativity to yourself! You'll discourage his development!" Longshot snapped. 

"First off, I highly doubt that its audio receptors are developed in this stage, and second off, how do you know it's going to be a mech?" 

"I just have a feeling. That's all. And, I don't care if he can't hear yet. What if he's sensitive? You could have hurt his feelings!" Longshot snapped in reply, cradling the little thing close to his chest. 

Dustbuster opened his intake to reply, before he just shook his helm and lay back down, staring at the open sky full of stars above them. 

"Hey, can you ah...can you help sculpt him for a little bit? I think I'm gonna' fall into recharge any second now..." Longshot suddenly asked, shaking himself to try and keep his optics open. 

Dustbuster opened his mouth to reply, before Longshot gently shoved the multi-faceted geometric thing into his hands. 

"If he starts getting cold, you can use your blaster to warm him like I did. Just make sure you don't accidentally shoot him when your blaster overloads. And don't forget to talk to him. He really seems to like that. I think he's slowing down a bit so it shouldn't be too hard. And if he starts to lose shape, just talk to him. He really seems to like that." Longshot rambled, before laying on his back. 

"Wait...Longshot! I'm not qualified! What am I supposed to do with..." Dustbuster yelped, before noticing that his friend had already gone into recharge and he was alone with the half formed protoform in his hands and the knowledge that if anything happened to the thing, his best friend would be devastated. 

"I really don't know how I let ye talk me into these things..." Dustbuster commented to himself, holding up the sentio metallico and sighing heavily. 

"Well, little one, I guess it's just you and me...." Dustbuster said, before he watched in surprise and awe as the protoform's facets began to become more pronounced. He could feel the doubts sinking in, but he had to do this, if not for the small and defenseless life form in his hands, then for the mech who he knew he'd follow to the bitter end.


	13. Chapter 13

On through the night, Dustbuster nurtured the developing protoform exactly as Longshot had instructed. For awhile, it was the same tedious process of heating it with his blaster and then letting it rest and slowly form into something that was beginning to resemble an actual cybertronian frame. At one point, its development seemed to entirely stop and Dustbuster feared for the worst. The mini bot clutched the protoform close to his chest and nudged his sleeping friend with his foot and letting out a loud, worried exclamation of "I think he's dying!"

At that, Longshot sat bolt upright, rubbed his optics, and then inspected the form that had taken shape while he had been recharging. At first, he was starting to panic. It almost seemed as if all hope was lost. And then, as if by yet another miracle, the protoform twitched slightly in Dustbuster's arms. 

"Here, hand him here!" Longshot exclaimed, reaching out and sighing in relief as Dustbuster handed him the little one. Within the next few hours, the little form became more distinct, continuing to occasionally twitch and move as they passed it back and forth between them. And then, finally, as if all of their hard work was coming to fruition, the protoform opened its optics for the very first time. 

"Welcome to the world, little brother!" Longshot exclaimed, holding the protoform up and pulling the tiny thing close to his chest in a joyous embrace. 

Dustbuster couldn't help but smile in satisfaction at the look on Longshot's face when he looked into the little one's optics. 

"Well, now that it's official and there's no more doubt as to whether or not the little guy's alive, I'd say he needs a name. What do you think, Dusty?" Longshot said, exuberantly holding onto the little one he and his friend had helped bring into the world with pride. 

"Shouldn't ye wait until more of his features develop?" Dustbuster asked. 

"Well... I've been thinking over it for awhile. I don't think we can call him blaster, because all the good names are undoubtedly taken. Buuuuut.....maybe we could call him something that alludes to the miracle of the fact that he exists, ya' know? For example, we did have to divert our blaster fire a lot, almost like we scattered it...." Longshot said, tapping his chin in contemplation as the sparkling stirred in his arms. 

Dustbuster narrowed his optics. "Okaaaay...so....."

"I'm thinking of callin' him Scatterblast!" Longshot exclaimed. "What do you think, little buddy? How's that for a name?" 

At that, the sparkling smiled widely using its newly formed intake and blinked up at the two bots curiously. 

"Primus! Did... did ya see that?! He smiled at me!" Longshot squealed. "Little guy just smiled at me!" 

Dustbuster chuckled awkwardly. 

Longshot ignored him and looked out and pointed at the spot where the protoform's spark had been discovered and said, "You see that?! You came from right there, right where I'm pointing! I was born here too, quite some time ago, so I guess that makes us brothers. The original blacksmiths who used to live here weren't here to help you, so me an' Dusty over there helped you. Ya' see that, little brother? This is Cybertron, our home. It's a bit broken and messed up from all the fighting, but it's your home now too. Do ya' get that? Can you talk yet?"

"Primus, Longshot. Kid's not even an orn old and you're givin' him a world history?!" Dustbuster exclaimed. 

"Well...yeah. Or at least, an abridged version. I don't want him to know all of it yet..." Longshot replied, before looking back at the sparkling. 

Dustbuster sighed and shook his head. "When you ever dive into things head first, do ye' ever consider the consequences BEFORE they actually happen?" he asked. 

"Nope." Longshot replied with a mildly smug grin, cradling the protoform in his arms. 

*****

Longshot gasped and his frame spasmed as the needles were drawn out of his neck and he found himself once again glaring into that singular, pulsing red optic in the same old darkened cell. Snapping back to reality brought with it the pain of the numerous lacerations and scrapes that riddled his frame from numerous torture sessions. He was cold, physically and mentally exhausted, his tank was empty and his shoulder joints were weakening from the orns he had spent hanging in that cell by his arms. He had bled out so much energon that there was barely enough within his body to keep him alive, and it was a constant, uphill struggle for him to stay conscious.

The tentacles once more slithered back in place at the decepticon's sides. Grimspur stood there for a moment and stared at the prisoner. He tilted his helm and blinked. He still couldn't find anything in the autobot's mind that would be useful for the decepticon cause, which both relieved and frustrated him to no end. Every moment he spent standing there in that room, looking at the helpless mech in chains, he felt a horrible, sickening feeling in his spark, a sort of wrongness about what he was doing and a darkness that felt as if it descended on his very soul. Instead of avoiding it, however, he allowed himself to sink into the darkness because he knew he was too far gone to step into the light. 

"Had you're last laugh, have ya', con?!" Longshot rasped out, shakily lifting his head to meet Grimspur's unyielding gaze. 

"This situation fails to amuse me." Grimspur replied in a dismal monotone. 

Longshot's head dropped back down and his chest heaved slightly as he drew in the dank cell air through his vents. "So, I take it y...you're one of those bots without a sense of humor..." he said as he spat a gob of the last energon he had in him at the ground.

"I don't see any point in mocking the state of our universe, if that is what you mean." Grimspur hissed, looking at the door as he spoke. 

Longshot was silent for a long moment, before he slowly lifted his head again. Grimspur took a step towards the door, and Longshot made an awful whimpering noise in the back of his vocalizer, straining at his restraints. "Wait!" he said, the chains that held him rattling slightly. 

Grimspur turned and looked back in Longshot's direction and paused. 

"Don't....don't go. I don't want to be alone..." Longshot said. 

"And what makes you think that I am one to grant that request? I've finished my work for the day, and I have colleagues in need of assistance with other matters." Grimspur coldly responded. 

"Please.... I have nothing. It'll just be for a few kliks. I probably don't have much longer. Who knows when the next time they torture me is gonna be. I just.....augh.....I can't....can hardly speak. Can't you see the condition I'm in? They've bled me dry...broken me. They've taken everything away, kept me in solitude. You're not like them. You...you seem different at least. But then again, I've been so humiliated and stripped to the bitter framework of my functioning that I'm trying to talk to a decepticon. But....someone is better than no one when you've lost everything like I have."

"I am surprised you are even capable of speech in that state. Are you not aware that talking requires energy, which you seem to have very little of at the moment. If you keep talking, you are just going to die faster." Grimspur stated, once again turning away from Longshot. 

"I.....I don't want to die alone." Longshot repeated, his voice shaking at every syllable. 

"I have seen enough deaths through memories and in person to have grown bored of it. I have also been told that I am as interesting a conversationalist as a black hole, and that I don't have an entertaining wire in my frame. I highly doubt you want my company." 

"You're lying. I can h-hear it in your voice. You're afraid of facing me head on, aren't you? Afraid that it's too late for you to fix the things you've done...." Longshot wheezed. 

At that, Grimspur spun around and lunged at the chained mech, covering the distance in two swift strides. He clamped his left servo around the Autobot's jaw and stared him straight in the face. "I am not afraid! In fact, for some I am the embodiment of fear itself. If you wish to test the limits of how far I am willing to go, then I just might stay here to watch the light flicker and fade from your eyes."

Longshot coughed and stared straight into the decepticon's pulsing red optic, showing not a single sign of fear. In fact, despite his condition and the pain he was in, the autobot managed a slight smirk. 

"Do not toy with me. I could kill you in an instant. You are helpless and at my mercy. I would suggest you remain silent unless you wish for me to inflict further harm on your person." Grimspur growled. 

"Yeah...that's what I was counting on." Longshot said, his smirk turning into a very peaceful yet melancholy grin. "I'd rather go out with a bang then die a slow and lonely death here, forgotten in this cell by everyone I ever loved."

At that, Grimspur paused and loosened his grip slightly. 

"I can tell you don't want to hurt me, do you?" Longshot asked. 

Grimspur froze, saying nothing in reply. 

"I know there's a good spark somewhere in there....there has to be, after all, you've never once harmed me in any way. Sure, you've bluffed and put on a show. But you had multiple chances to twist my mind and memories in ways that would have made Megatron himself shudder. And yet...you didn't. Please.....I just want it to be over. I know you've won. But please, there's nothing left for me here. I erased any compromising files the second the drones clamped me in chains, and there's no sense in just hanging here waiting for more pointless torture." Longshot said, trying to keep his voice steady as he spoke. 

"You are fabricating this 'goodness' you speak of when there is only a void. I did not alter your mind because it was not necessary. The truth of the matter is you hold no value to me, dead or alive. I am indifferent to whatever your fate may be." Grimspur purred, trying to mask any emotion in his voice. 

"If it doesn't matter, then do it. Get rid of me. End it. End it all! Just don't let me die alone!" Longshot screamed. 

"Are you not afraid of death?" Grimspur cooed. 

"I've had worse." Longshot stated. 

"Are you aware that what you are asking of me is an act of mercy?" Grimspur asked, narrowing his optic at Longshot. 

"Are you really that afraid of killing me?" 

At that, Grimspur grabbed a long, thin drill-like instrument from the collection of torture supplies the drones had left in the room, and without showing any emotion, without another word, he plunged it through Longshot's spark. 

Longshot's frame heaved and twitched. He started to gag on his own energon from the internal bleeding, before it began pouring out of his mouth. His head slumped down as he stared at his chest for a moment and then raised his head one last time to look the decepticon in the optic. 

"Th-thank..you..." Longshot choked out, his frame twitching one last time.

And then he was still.

His head dropped down to his chest. 

The light faded from his optics. 

Grimspur stood there, his servo still clutching the instrument. He shakily pulled his hand away before the energon could run down the weapon and soil his plating. The static field between his antennae pulsed for a second before going completely silent. The great, wiry decepticon mech turned his back to the autobot and headed towards the door, making one last glance at the autobot's limp frame. Longshot's head hung limply over his chest, but Grimspur would have sworn that there was a peaceful smile on the autobot's faceplate that was unburdened by all of the pain he had been in in the seconds before his death. Grimspur quickly turned back towards the door and quickly stepped into the hallway, rushing out and trying to put as much distance between himself and that room as possible. 

He nearly fell over when he heard Skycrest calling his name from the laboratory as he was running so fast. Grimspur quickly caught his balance and turned around, walking back towards the laboratory in a rush and slamming the door behind him. 

"Ah, it's good to see you getting some exercise. I was just shouting to tell you that we've made some progress!" Skycrest cheerfully exclaimed. 

Grimspur ignored her, staring off into space and quickly sitting down on the nearest table, staring down at his trembling hands as if he was fully detached from all realms of reality. 

Noticing his unusual behavior, Skycrest scampered over to the corner of the laboratory and pulled out a big, silvery sheet and hopped onto the table next to him. She then draped the fire blanket over his shoulders and immediately started rubbing his back. 

"Hey, what's...what's wrong?" She asked softly, climbing onto his back and wrapping her arms loosely around his neck from behind. 

At that, Grimspur pulled the blanket tighter around his frame and shuddered, remaining silent. 

"You killed someone tonight again, didn't you?" Skycrest asked. 

Grimspur didn't reply, but she could tell by the way his frame shook that her deduction was correct. Skycrest sighed and leaned against his frame, resting her head in the spot between his shoulder and his neck. "Did they deserve it?" she asked. 

Grimspur hung his head and continued staring off into the distance. "He deserved better..." he said. 

"A lot of bots deserve better." Skycrest replied solemnly, nuzzling him slightly. 

"I don't deserve you." Grimspur shakily stated, ignoring the cleansing fluid that was streaming out of his singular optic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nobody gets what they deserve in this twisted hairball of a universe, the good and the bad alike.


	14. Chapter 14

"When is bwuvy coming back?" Scatterblast asked, blinking innocently up at the surrounding autobots with his wide blue optics. 

Dustbuster lightly patted him on the head. "I don't know, tyke. But hopefully soon." he said, forcing himself to smile weakly as he looked down at the little mech. 

"We'll scour every decepticon base we come across until we find him. Even if we have to cross dozens of galaxies in the process, we're going to bring him back." Backfire added. 

"Is bwuvy lost?" Scatterblast asked. 

Backfire sighed heavily and looked over at Dustbuster. The grey mech shook his head, and so Backfire closed her optics and sighed, rubbing her temples as she tried to come up with a suitable answer. 

"Yeah....he's lost. The decepticons..." she started, before Dustbuster held up a hand as if telling her to stop. 

"Dusty, that's enough. He needs to know. It's better he knows the truth, and besides, he'll hear it eventually from someone." Backfire said.

Dustbuster sighed longingly. "Why do you think Longshot and I left him back on Cybertron and deliberately HID him from the squadron when they found us?" he growled. 

"I don't know!" Backfire snapped, quickly getting to her feet and clenching her fists. 

"We were TRYING to protect him from the war! And look at where that's got us! The kid's too young to be thrown into the fighting, and ye aren't helping one bit. Just stuff it and talk about something else for Primus' sake." Dustbuster tersely replied. 

"I can't talk about anything else because I speak my mind and lately, Longshot has been the only thing I can think about. Ever since they took him, I've been hoping, longing, praying to get him back. I was going to spend an eternity with that mech and all I got was an instant before he was torn away from me." Backfire ranted. 

Scatterblast looked back and forth between the bickering bots and tilted his head. 

"Then don't talk at all, or talk to someone else about it. I don't want to hear it!" Dustbuster yowled, covering his audio receptors. 

"Why are you fighting each other and not the decepticons?" Scatterblast asked, his face twisted into a look of concern. 

"I...I don't know, sweetspark. Sometimes friends just fight." Backfire replied while shooting an indignant glare in Dustbuster's direction. She then knelt down to the sparkling's level and tried to soften her expression as best she could, her exhaustion showing in her optics. "And sometimes.....sometimes bots just need a recharge."

"But why?" Scatterblast asked.

"Because sometimes, not everyone can agree on things." Backfire said with a heavy sigh through her vents. 

Scatterblast tilted his head in the other direction and stared at her, trying to process what she was saying. 

Backfire lowered her optics a bit before standing back up and turning to leave. Scatterblast was quick to follow on her heels, staring up at her with curiosity and interest. Dustbuster opened his intake to protest, before he just shook his head and sighed. He decided that this time he would let the sparkling choose who he wanted to spend time with. Backfire, however, was a bit baffled by Scatterblast's eagerness to follow her. 

"Where are you going?" the little one asked.

"I'm going to take a nap." she replied, looking down at him and frowning. 

"What's a nap? And where are you taking it?" Scatterblast said. 

"I'm taking it to Luna 1, kid." She sarcastically groaned.

Scatterblast giggled and continued staring up at her. "But what is it?" 

"It's called I haven't recharged in several orns and I'm probably going to smack the next bot to ask me a stupid question." she tersely grunted, putting in the code for the door and exiting the room, walking towards the femme barracks area of the ship. 

"Why?" Scatterblast asked innocently.

At that, Backfire stopped in her tracks and clenched her dentas. She looked down at the little mech for a long second and then used a hand to turn the little bot around so that he was facing Dustbuster and said, "Go bother Dusty. I'm suuure he'd love to hear it."

"What does 'bother' mean?" Scatterblast chirped. 

"It's what you're doing right now." Backfire groaned, releasing the mech and turning around to leave. 

"Oh...." Scatterblast said, pausing for a second. 

Just when Backfire thought she'd lost him, a little voice from behind her heels called out, "I like bother!"

"It's not 'bother' when you're in the act of doing it. It's 'bothering.' Your grammar is worse than your attitude." Backfire said as she punched in the code for the femme barracks. 

"What's attitude?" Scatterblast said, oblivious to how hard the femme was trying not to smack him.

"Attitude is your disposition. Like how you act? For example, you have a very sunny and cheerful attitude. It's also quite idiotic. Now will you please stop asking stupid questions?!!!" She snapped. 

"What's stupid?" Scatterblast squeaked out, not intimidated in the slightest by how frustrated the femme was getting with him. 

"That's it. No. More. QUESTIONS. I'm going to recharge, because I am obviously too tired to deal with you. Now be a good little mech and scoot!" Backfire said. 

The door opened and she stepped into the barracks, finding that they were mostly empty and very relieved that she would maybe have a chance at getting some sleep. But to her dismay, the little mech followed her right into the barracks and wandered after her as she walked down the aisle of recharge slabs. She decided to try the age old tactic of ignoring him and lay down on a recharge slab while the little one stared in curiosity and fascination. 

"What are you going to do, watch me while I sleep?" Backfire sarcatically inquired. 

Scatterblast blinked and climbed up onto the recharge slab, nestling right in the crook of her elbow. Backfire made a small noise reminiscent of a snort and a groan and rolled her optics. "Okay...you win. You can stay if you're quiet." she sighed. 

Scatterblast smiled sweetly and nuzzled her with his little head. 

Backfire sighed and closed her optics. She realized that it was probably just as hard for the little one to cope as it was for her, and she was really too tired to get up and move him. Plus, even though she probably would never admit it, Scatterblast's presence alone was comforting. Something about his blissful innocence made her feel like maybe the world was not over even though Longshot was gone.


End file.
